


Untangle Me

by suicxne



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alcohol, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Blow Jobs, Canon Compliant, Clubbing, Dirty Talk, Domestic Fluff, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Grinding, Hand Jobs, Kissing, M/M, Masturbation, Mutual Masturbation, Pining, Reality, Recreational Drug Use, Smoking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-30
Updated: 2015-09-08
Packaged: 2018-04-07 01:15:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 103,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4243941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suicxne/pseuds/suicxne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis finds himself out of place in LA, unable to get at an itch that’s been bothering him for years. He supposes back in the early days, home hadn’t been a place. It’d been a person. He’d etched it permanently into his skin for fucks sake.<br/>It was always him and Harry. Stuck to each other like super glue. Pulled together by some magnetic force, existing in their own bubble. Everyone could see it, but that was half the problem, wasn’t it?</p><p>It’s not like Louis can pinpoint the exact moment in time when him and Harry fell out of sync. There wasn’t really one at all. It had been a gradual slip, like the tide wearing away at a sandstone cliff. Chipping the solid foundations until there was nothing left to stop the structure falling to the waves below. It’s not like he spends all of his time sitting around moping over a lost friendship, he’s good at distractions. But LA only seems to accentuate the distance between them. Two separate planets, not even in the same solar system.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>  <em>Or the one where Harry and Louis finally get it right.</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> OKAY! I've been wanting to write a ~somewhat~ canon compliant fic for ages, so this is pretty self indulgent. It's set in May, so obviously after Zayn left the band. He is mentioned in the fic, but never portrayed in a negative or unsympathetic light (at least I hope not!)  
> Mandatory disclaimer that this is all fiction and isn't mean to represent my actual thoughts or feelings about the real lives or events related to the people mentioned.  
> Enjoy :)

LA is exhausting. The people are exhausting, the traffic is exhausting, the unfamiliarity and sense of not belonging is exhausting. Louis should have spent enough time in LA in his life as a multimillionaire pop star to become accustomed to the place. To the heavy, hot air that sticks to your skin like a sheet. Yet it still feels otherworldly to him, a million miles away from the grey skies and homeliness of London.

Louis tries to bring a bit of home with him wherever he goes. Whether it be some old friend in need of a holiday like Oli or Calvin, or just something as small as a 6x4 picture of his mum in his wallet. He never used to get homesick, back when the band was first gaining momentum. Back when he was going to places for the first time, too absolutely distracted by the absurdity of the reality he found himself in. Thrown into something he didn’t even realise he’d wanted, with four boys he barely even knew. 

That’s another reason he finds himself out of place in LA, unable to get at an itch that’s been bothering him for years. Back in the early days, home hadn’t been a place. It’d been a person. He’d etched it permanently into his skin for fucks sake. It was always him and Harry. Stuck to each other like super glue. Pulled together by some magnetic force, existing in their own bubble. Everyone could see it, but that was half the problem, wasn’t it?

It’s not like Louis can pinpoint the exact moment in time when him and Harry fell out of sync. There wasn’t really one at all. It had been a gradual slip, like the tide wearing away at a sandstone cliff. Chipping the solid foundations until there was nothing left to stop the structure falling to the waves below. 

It’s not like he spends all of his time sitting around moping over a lost friendship, he’s good at distractions. But LA only seems to accentuate the distance between them. Two separate planets, not even in the same solar system.

Harry is so at home here, spends every second he can basking in the California heat, networking with music moguls and rubbing shoulders with Kardashians. Harry glows in LA, like the city was built for him. Louis spends most of his time inside luxurious, air conditioned villas, too clean and un-lived in for him to feel comfortable. Sprawled on the sofa Googling his name and seething at the shit that follows it.

The latest stream of articles are depressingly hilarious. Pictures of him falling out of clubs, surrounded by a mob of beautiful, leggy blondes.

 _‘Newly single Louis Tomlinson takes five lucky girls back to a hotel.’_ One article reads, Louis scoffs. He’s always been a clingy drunk, desperate for attention and overwhelmed by the feeling of just wanting to hold somebody close. 

He can’t help but feel sorry for the girls he latches onto at clubs. Going back to Louis from One Direction’s hotel room sounds great in theory. In reality it involves little more than sitting on Louis’ bed whilst he rolls sloppy joints and passes them around before calling cabs for the girls and letting them borrow his warm clothes for the ride home.

The most intimate thing he’s done in months is grab Liam’s dick on stage so he fucked up his high note. Eleanor and him had fallen into nothing more than friends a long time ago. It’d been like a safety net, she was one of the best people Louis had ever met and although their relationship had been little more than platonic for a long while, she meant a lot to him. They’d ended it officially months ago. Even though Louis knew there was nothing there, it’d still hurt like hell to hear it. _“I’m seeing somebody else, Lou. I can’t keep calling myself your girlfriend, it’s not fair on either of us. We need to start a new chapter. ”_

He’s brought back to the present when his phone buzzes noisily against the arm of the sofa. He checks it and groans. 

**’Cars coming @ half past, be ready to leave. Tight schedule’**

It’s from his personal chauffeur, Louis has no idea why he has to have a personal chauffeur, he can fucking drive. They’re taping James Corden’s show today, their first interview as four piece. The last thing Louis wants to deal with. If someone had told little, naive nineteen year old Louis, that in five years Zayn wouldn’t be in the band and him and Harry would go weeks at a time without speaking, he’d have laughed in their face.

**‘alright mate , see you later’**

He jabs into his phone, pressing send and locking it. He shrugs himself off the sofa, catching a glance of himself in the mirror and wincing at the heavy bags under his eyes. Something for their make up artist to fix later, he thinks as he makes his way to the shower, stripping his clothes and leaving them in a messy pile on the floor.

*

The CBS studio’s dressing rooms are by far some of the nicest Louis has encountered. Minimalistic and refined, black leather and shiny marble flooring. Glass bowls filled with the candy they’d requested. Smoking is allowed, which is definitely a plus. Liam and Louis share a ten pack of some shitty menthol brand between them. Louis cant remember when he picked up smoking, cant actually remember ever having to buy himself a pack. Thats the thing with being famous, people are so willing to give you everything you ask for, even if it comes with a severe health warning on the back of it. 

He’s sat back in the hair and make up room now, perched on a chair in front of a mirror whilst Lou sprays some sickly smelling product into his hair. 

“You need a haircut, Louis.” She says, tugging at the long strands at bottom that fall onto his neck. “Want me to chop these bits off quickly?”

“No.” Louis snaps, pulling his head away and receiving a bewildered glance from Lou. “I’m growing it a bit…” He explains, avoiding eye contact with her in the mirror.

Lou just raises her eyebrows and squeezes his shoulder, “Fair enough.”

Louis has always been fussy with his hair, always fiddling with it and fixing his fringe. Always spending the longest out of all the boys in front of the mirror armed with hairspray and straighteners. It’s not like him to let it grow out into the unkempt, un-styled do he’s currently sporting. He likes the comfort of it though, likes to twirl it around his fingertips when he can't sleep, running his hands through it and feeling it fall between his fingers. 

That’s one thing he’s always loved about Harry, his ridiculous mop of hair. Found himself idly winding his fingers through it, scratching at the back of Harry’s scalp or moving a strand that had fallen in the wrong place. 

Harry’s hair is the longest it’s ever been right now. Loose ringlets falling past his shoulders and pooling in the dip in his collarbones. Every now and then Louis will catch himself staring at it, noticing a strand parted to the wrong side that he would have gently pulled between his fingers and put back right. He wonders if it still feels as soft, if he still has the springy bits right at the back under the heavy outer layers. 

Louis remembers a time when they were still so young, Harry mustn’t have long turned seventeen. Their styling team had demanded he get a hair cut to tidy it up a bit, keep it neat. Promised they wouldn’t take too much off. 

Louis had come back to their flat to find Harry sat on the sofa, eyes red and puffy and hair so short it barely covered his ears. Harry had looked up at him, eyelashes wet with tears and his lips pouty. “It looks _so bad_ , Lou.” 

Louis had sat down next to him, scooping him up into a hug and threading his fingers through his hair. “It doesn’t Haz. It looks fine, and it’s just hair. It’ll grow back in no time.” Harry used to be so insecure, so wary and guarded. Nobody on the outside got to see it though, Harry was the face of the band, the cheeky Lothario bedding 30 year old women. “I look so ugly.”

Louis remembers Harry saying that like it was yesterday, whispering it wetly into Louis shoulder. He remembers it because it was so baffling to him. So confusing to Louis that Harry could ever think that about himself. Everyone knew Harry was gorgeous, but Harry was _gorgeous._ _Is_ gorgeous. And he was most gorgeous vulnerable and open in Louis’ hold. 

Louis hadn’t told him that though, instead what had left his lips was “Shut up Harry, your irresistible face was the only reason we got to the X-Factor final.”

Harry had let out a choked laugh, nuzzling further into Louis’ side as Louis combed his fingers through what was left of his hair.

“All done.” Lou’s voice comes from behind him, pulling him back to the present. “You like it?”

He looks at himself in the mirror, touching his fringe softly with his fingertips. “Yeah, sick. Thanks.”

Lou smiles back at him, “The other boys shouldn't be long, think they’re gettin’ mics fitted.” She says, tapping him on the shoulder before turning on her heel and heading off in the direction of her dressing room.

Louis pulls out his phone, checking the time. Still over a fucking hour until they have to be on. The surprising downside to being a pop star is that there’s a lot of waiting around, stuck in holding areas, biding your time. 

He’s about to put his phone away when he hears someone approaching. He looks up into the mirror and sees that it’s Harry. He’s dressed like he always is these days, tight jeans and an unbuttoned shirt with ridiculous boots that don’t really match. 

“Hi.” Louis offers, occupying himself with scrolling through his phone.

“Alright?” Harry responds, fiddling with a bag on the floor. 

“Yeah, good.” Louis replies, fixing his fringe back the way he likes it.

“You seen Ben?” Harry asks him, still crouched out of Louis’ sight. 

For a split second Louis thinks _‘Why? Why do you need Ben? Why do you need anyone? I’m right here.’_

“Nah, haven’t. Sorry.” Is all he gives him. 

Harry just makes a small grunting noise, pulling out some magazine from the bag. Louis looks up and watches him make his way over to where Louis is sat, placing himself in the chair next to him. “Are you nervous?” Harry asks, flicking the magazine open.

And thats the thing, it’s not like they hate each other. It’s not like they cant bear to be in the same room. It’s nothing like that. It’s just stilted conversation and awkward glances where lifelong promises and soft touches used to be. That’s what hurts the most, they used to be so fucking good.

“Little bit, feels so weird without Zayn.” Louis replies, picking at the rip in his jeans.

“Innit. At least we’ve got James interviewing us and not just some random journo though.”

Louis flinches at that. Louis introduced Harry to James, Louis has known James for years. Him and Harry used to hang out with James and his wife all the time like some weird double date. It’s just another sharp reminder of what used to be.

“Mhm.” Is all he says back.

They sit in silence for a while, Harry skimming through his magazine. Louis manages to catch a glimpse of it, Ok! Magazine. Typical tabloid trash. 

“Why d’ya read that shit?” He asks, meeting Harry’s eye in the mirror.

Harry raises his eyebrows at Louis’ remark. “I don’t, usually.” He shrugs. “It’s a special edition though, royal baby and all that. Four page spread.”

Louis laughs softly, rolling his eyes. “You’re weird.”

Louis expects one of Harry’s classic drawn out “ _hey_ ’”’s and a cheeky grin, but Harry just presses his lips together and shrugs, going back to the magazine.

Before long Liam and Niall make their way into the dressing room, loud and boisterous as ever. Harry darts up from his chair, slapping both their hands in a high five and pulling them into a hug.

“Tommo!” Liam shouts, coming up behind him and ruffling his hair.

“Watch it would you?!” Louis snaps, slapping Liam’s hand out of his hair. “Only just sorted me fuckin’ hair.”

“Oh!” Liam sing songs. “Tommo woke up on the wrong side of the bed, better watch it lads.”

Louis just sighs, getting out of his seat and placing himself down on the sofa next to Niall. Niall takes pity and drapes an arm over his shoulders. “Don’t be a dick, Payno.” Niall laughs softly.

He hears Harry giggle from the other side of the room, he’s talking on the phone. Already lost interest in the situation involving Louis.

“I’m always stickin’ up for you, Louis.” Niall giggles, rubbing Louis’ arm.

“Thanks.” He says, his eyes on Harry.

*

“Smashed it boys!” Niall exclaims, pulling the three of them into a hug. “Smashed it!” 

They’d been off air no longer than a few minutes, still slightly dazed and disorientated by the harsh studio lights. To be fair, they had smashed it. They’d handled the awkward questions about Zayn with a practiced ease, Liam taking the brunt of it, like he always did with questions nobody really wanted to answer.

The only really stilted moment being James’s incessant quizzing of Louis’ regular clubbing and partying. It was obvious James was trying to accentuate the point that Louis was single and definitely ready to mingle. Louis’ used to this line of questioning, just never directed at him. Harry’s spent the good part of five years being bombarded with questions about his love life, jokes about him being a womaniser, a home wrecker, shagging anything with a pulse. Louis’ remembers having to sit there and listen to it, absolutely itching to jump in and tell the interviewer to fuck off. That Harry wasn’t like that, not even close. Louis can’t help but wonder if Harry felt that same urge to protect him, watching Louis squirm under James’s questioning. Another part of him wonders if Harry believes it. If Harry thinks Louis really is sleeping with a different girl every night. It isn’t like Louis has given him any reason to doubt it.

“Good job, lads. You were all great.” Speaks one their PR people, patting them each on the back.

Louis really detests their PR people, their handlers and the higher-ups in suits. Individually, he’s sure they’re perfectly lovely, but what they stand for makes his blood boil. They’re the people responsible for creating this warped and twisted version of themselves that the public get to see. The people who’ve dragged Louis’ and the other boys’ names and reputations through the dirt for a few extra figures on album sales charts.

He fucking dreaded meetings with them, still does now. It’s never, ever a good thing to be called in to their offices. More often than not it’d been him and Harry sitting opposite them at a desk, being “strongly advised” to “tone down this whole ‘bromance’ thing.” Louis remembers laughing at them, rolling his eyes at Harry. There was nothing to tone down, neither of them had been aware there _was_ a ‘bromance thing.’ 

“And how do you suggest we do that?” Louis had bit back, “Why don’t any of the other boys have to tone anything down?” 

Harry was always quiet, fiddling with his sleeves and refusing to make eye contact. Sometimes Louis wanted to shake him, _why won’t you say something, stick up for us?_ It was always left to Louis, fighting battles for the both of them. Battles he shouldn’t have had to fight in the first place. Stupid things like being allowed to sit next to Harry in signings, or mentioning him on Twitter. 

“It’s just not good for the bands image, Louis.” Some higher-up had told him. “Not with your target audience.” 

He remembers one particularly awful meeting where they’d brought evidence to back up their claims; a few short clips of the boys in interviews. The first was them being interviewed by some Irish journalist that was trying much too hard to be matey with them. 

All the boys were pressed together on a sofa, a bit restless and not really taking the interview seriously. They’d been asked about picking up girls, obviously, and Harry had said something stupid about how watching sad films lead to kissing. 

Louis’ remembers the pang of jealously in his stomach, picturing Harry cosying up to somebody that wasn't him. He’d thought about all the times Harry and him had laid around together on their sofa, or in each others beds, watching cheesy films. How they’d always be draped over each other, holding each other close because the heating never worked in their flat. 

Louis always cries at sad films, but Harry never used to tease him about it. He thinks back to one time they’d been tucked up together watching some sappy rom com Louis doesn’t remember the name of. When a tear had began to trickle out of Louis’ eye, Harry had reached over and swiped it away with his thumb, running the back of his palm across Louis’ cheek and smiling down at him, eyes sparkling. 

That had felt special to Louis, a secret moment between the two of them. Hearing Harry reduce something that was theirs into a joke about girls, so flippantly and off hand made Louis’ stomach hurt.

Without thinking, he’d gripped the back of Harry’s neck, pulling him in close enough that he could feel his breath. Harry had looked down, right into his eyes, grin splitting his face two. For a moment, it’d felt like Harry was going to lean in and kiss him. Instead, he’d leaped forward, cupping Louis’ face and ruffling his hair as Louis did the same back.

When they’d pulled apart, the interviewer looked stunned. “Obviously, they’re a band that are close in more than one way.” He’d joked.

 _You’ve no idea,_ Louis thought to himself.

And that wasn’t even the part of the interview their handlers were most concerned about. A few minutes prior, the interviewer had asked them all a question, accidentally skipping over Louis. When he realised, he’d reached out over Harry, squeezing Louis’ thigh. Moments later, Louis felt another hand on his leg, taking up the exact same space where the interviewers had been. Harry’s long fingers gripped his thigh, squeezing once before patting it firmly. The gesture had felt a lot like “ _mine._ ” 

“See?” Their handler had asked, pointing out the touch. “This is what we mean. You can’t keep your hands off each other.”

The next clip they were made to watch was filmed in New York. It’d been a long day, a mall signing earlier that had gone on for hours, Louis and Harry at separate ends of the table. They were both exhausted and a bit mardy, still so wrapped up in each other that being apart for more than a few hours drained them. 

All of the boys were sat on a sofa with Harry perched behind them. His fingers were tapping away non stop just behind Louis’ back. It was like Louis could feel some kind of gravitational pull, dragging him closer to Harry’s hand behind him. He’d risked a glance at the camera, weighing up his options. At the time, it had looked like he was out of frame. Clearly he wasn’t. 

Liam’s saying something about how incredible the fans are when it happens. Harry’s knuckles graze the back of Louis’ arm, stroking against his skin softly, up and down. Louis attempts to move his arm back in a way he thought was subtle. Jarring it backwards to lean in closer to Harry’s touch, craving it.

And yeah, to an outsider it probably looked really fucking weird and not very platonic. But that was just Harry and Louis, that was them. They were weird. Louis had never felt like that around anyone but Harry. The touch was anchoring, grounding. Every second Harry wasn’t touching him it had felt like his skin was itching. 

“Why did you do that Harry?” Their handler had probed.

“I wanted to.” Harry answered simply, chewing at his bottom lip.

That was it, they just did things because they wanted to and because it felt right. It didn’t have to mean anything, it didn’t. 

“Well it’s got to stop. You’ve got to think about your actions, how they could be perceived.” The handler had replied.

Louis remembers Harry turning a deep red, his eyes glued to the floor.

*

They sit around in the holding room of the studio for a while, waiting for the fans to leave and security to clear the area so they can make their way back home. There’s always a quiet lull after the adrenaline of an interview seeped away, especially after big, important ones like the Late Late Show. Louis and Niall occupy one sofa, flicking through TV channels on the complimentary flatscreen whilst Liam wanders off into his own dressing room, mumbling something about FaceTiming Sophia. 

Harry’s spread over the other sofa in the room, long legs dangling over one side. He’s texting somebody, text tone just filtering through the noise of the television. A few years ago Louis would have thrown a pillow at him and told him to put it on vibrate, now he just rolls his eyes every time a ping rings through the room. 

“Cars are here boys.” A security guard calls through the door.

As they all walk to their individual cars, offering a wave and a nod to each other, Louis can’t help but sigh at how much of a far cry it is from the days when they’d all bundle into one SUV, gaggle of limbs and laughs. The other boys have always been too polite to mention, but it’s more than obvious that Harry and Louis’ distance has impacted the entire group dynamic.

He remembers one night he’d spent on the bus with Zayn, when after one too many blunts he’d slurred out, “Sometimes it’s like… I feel like I’m just your replacement for Harry. Like I’ve got t’be half of what he was to you or somethin’.” 

“Don’t be daft.” Louis had replied, “It’s not that much of a big deal. Me n’ Harry are fine, we’ve just grown up. Not so clingy anymore.”

Zayn had patted Louis’ leg that was slung over the top of his thighs. “Whatever you say mate.”

*

Louis is sat in the back of a shiny black Range Rover, being driven back to his rented apartment. He really doesn’t want to go back there, doesn’t want to sit around all alone and fall asleep in a bed too big for him. He opens his phone, scrolling through Twitter looking for something to do tonight. One tweet in particular catches his eye. There’s an event on at some club, Snoop Dogg’s album release party. He gets up his LA agents number, typing out a message. 

**‘any chance you can get me a few tix to snoops party tonight ?’**

Honestly, how was Louis living in a world where he’s just casually inviting himself to Snoop Dogg’s party? It doesn't take long to get a reply.

**‘no problem, I've got u on the guest list with a +4’**

Louis scans his brain for four people in LA he can drag along with him. What a depressing thought. Three million people in LA and Louis is struggling to find four to hang out with. Calvin and Oli are always up for anything, still in awe at Louis’ celebrity lifestyle five years later. Liam’s a good shot and Alberto will take up the last place. He calls Liam, he picks up on the second ring. 

“Alright, lad?” Liam asks him.

“Yeah, fine. You busy tonight?”

There’s hesitation. “Nah, not really. Why, whats up?”

Louis’ scratches at his jaw, feeling a bit awkward at how often he’s been trying to drag Liam out lately. “There’s this party later tonight in West Hollywood, Snoop’s gonna be there. Album release or some shit. Up for it?”

“Snoop as in Snoop _Dogg?_ Are you joking mate? Of course I’m up for it. Look at us being all VIP, hanging out with Snoop.” Liam laughs down the phone.

“S’mad innit?” Louis laughs back. “I’ll text you details in a bit, yeah?”

“Yeah go for it. I’ll see ya later.”

“See ya.”

Louis’ is about to end the call when Liam’s voice comes through the speaker again. “Louis?”

“Yeah?”

“S’everything alright, mate? You’ve been a bit off since we got here.”

Louis lets out a sharp breath, had it been that obvious? “What’d’ya mean? I’m fine. Probably just jet lag messing with me head.”

“If you say so.” 

Louis sighs, rubbing his forehead. “I’ll speak to you later, alright?” 

“Good lad, see you laters.” 

Louis hangs up, letting himself sink back into the leather seat. Fucking hell. Liam was hardly the most observant person in the world, if he was picking up on Louis’ sour attitude it must be bad. 

He curses himself for letting it get to him, he’s managed to effectively not think about it for almost years now. It’s this fucking _place,_ so far away from home and a million miles away from normality. It’s made a thousand times worse now everything else has changed too. There’s no Zayn to take his mind off things with a warm hug and a shoulder to lean on. No Eleanor to hold his hand and guide him through the screaming crowds of people, give him some sense of grounding.

He thinks about ringing his mum, just listening to her babble about Ernest and Doris or how the plumber still hasn’t been round to fix the leaky sink. Something to make him feel normal, remind him he still has a million and one other things going for him outside of this mess with Harry and shitty LA smack bang in the middle of it. It’s just gone seven though, making it three in the morning back home, so that’s blown out of the water.

The car slows, coming to a halt outside of the gated property Louis’ been staying in. It’s a stunning place, open plan and high ceilings, white leather and shiny marble. It’s got a beautiful garden too, two acres of land surrounded by tall hedges. They pull up into the cobbled drive way, parking just outside the steps leading up to the front door. Louis pulls on his backpack, undoing his seatbelt before opening the car door and stepping out.

“Thanks mate.” He offers, tapping his fist on the window of the drivers side, giving him a small wave.

He gets a beep of acknowledgment as the car shudders into reverse, pulling back down the drive. He finds the house keys in his back pocket, stretching up on his tip toes to reach the unnecessarily high up lock. Letting himself in, he wanders around aimlessly for a bit, never quite sure what to do with himself all alone in a big, quiet house.

When him and Harry had first lived together there’d been this comforting sense of routine, yet it had never felt mundane. If it had been a long day, full of appearances and just generally being super famous teenagers, they’d tumble into the flat together, kicking their shoes off at the door. Louis would get the kettle on, making them tea in their favourite mugs. Harry would phone for a takeaway, not even having to ask Louis what he wanted, order memorised after so many nights following the same formula. They’d eat together at the kitchen table, Harry banning all food substances from the sofa and their beds after one too many spilling incidents. More often than not Louis would hook his ankle around Harry’s under the table as they ate. When they finished, Harry would put all their dishes and cutlery in the dishwasher, whilst Louis sat on the table, swinging his legs back and forth. He’d tell Harry all the jokes or funny stories he’d thought of in interviews earlier that day that he hadn’t been allowed to lean over and whisper to him in front of the cameras. 

They’d finish the night off in Harry’s room, in his bed. At first Louis would tell Harry there was better WiFi connection in his room, so it made sense for him to sit in there with him. Then they got the router fixed and Louis’ explained that actually, Harry’s mattress was just a lot comfier and softer than his, even though they both came from the same set. Eventually, Louis didn’t need an excuse to spend the good part of his evenings wrapped up in bed with Harry under the blankets. It was expected, worked into their routine. They’d put a film on Harry’s TV, or play Fifa on the Xbox, Louis squeezed up against Harry’s side. 

The night would often fly past them, early hours of the morning creeping up on them unawares. Harry had always been particularly fond of sleep, dozing off on assorted soft surfaces throughout the day, so it was no surprise to Louis when he’d turn to say something to Harry and he’d be curled up next to him, fast asleep. 

Louis craved that time, lying next to Harry, tucked into his side as he slept peacefully. Harry was always so warm, like a little human furnace giving off heat. He’d plaster his chest up to Harry’s back, letting the warmth seep through Harry to him.

Most nights he would only allow himself a few quick minutes like that, chin hooked over Harry’s shoulder and arms draped over his side before softly nudging Harry awake, whispering his name, gentle and quiet. Louis knew how much Harry hated sleeping with clothes on, or forgetting to brush his teeth before he slept. 

“You were sleeping.” Louis would whisper as Harry rubbed his eyes open, blinking up at Louis in the warm amber glow of the bedroom. 

“I was cosy.” Harry’d gravel back at him, voice rough.

“You looked it.” Louis had mumbled once, smoothing Harry’s sticking up fringe back flat across his forehead.

Louis would traipse back to his own room, ignoring the pull in his stomach that was desperately trying to drag him back into Harry’s bed.

There had been one time where Louis had found himself unable to do anything but give in to that urge. The one time he’d spent the whole night in Harry’s bed.

It was at a time when things were changing, when foundations were starting to crack. It was towards the spring of 2013, just after Harry and Taylor Swift’s PR stunt nightmare was well over and done with, the shockwaves from it still ricocheting through both of their lives. Harry was getting mobbed by paps and fans all day and clubbing and partying with his London friends all night. 

There’d be a significant push from their PR team too, separating the two of them even further on stage and in interviews. Louis had been flown all over the world with Eleanor for photo opportunities and promo. It wasn’t like he didn’t enjoy spending time with her, but his schedule was busy enough without the added stress of adjusting to timezones. 

Constantly being separated by outside sources was exhausting and upsetting, tiring them out. At some point, it had just become easier to take orders than to resist them and they’d found themselves ignoring each other without even being asked to first.

That one night, the show had taken a toll on the both of them. It was their last show in a series of non-stop, vigorous touring and they were _exhausted._ Much to Louis’ annoyance, management had booked them all into a hotel near the venue, it was easier for the tour managers to handle logistics if they were all together in a hotel, even if they were in London and not further than half an hour away from their respective homes. 

They’d both been silent checking into the hotel, lugging heavy backpacks behind them. They stood side by side at the front desk as the other boys and the rest of their entourage bounded around the lobby waiting for their rooms to be ready. 

Neither Harry or Louis had spoken to the other about it, but it was easy to tell they were both tired out and missing home, not wanting to spend another night in an anonymous hotel bed. More than that, they were both pining for the simplicity of just existing in each others space.

Even stood in the corner of a hotel lobby, Louis could still feel the weight of watching eyes all over him. He wanted to put his arm around Harry’s waist and pull him closer, rest his head against his shoulder and breathe in his familiar scent. Have Harry drape his long arm over his shoulders and tuck him into his side. _You can’t keep your hands off each other._ The voice inside his head had taunted, replaying the words he’d been told a million times. _You’ve got to think about your actions._ He’d found himself inching away from Harry’s side, feeling the warmth seep out of him as he’d shuffled himself apart from where he wanted to be most. 

Not much later, the rooms were finally ready and Louis had opened the door to his, walking on auto pilot towards the bed. He’d kicked his shoes off and fallen onto the plush sheets, burying his head in the pillows, trying to block out the ringing in ears. 

He couldn’t have been there longer than a few moments when he’d heard a tentative knock at the door. Grunting, he’d pulled himself up and stumbled over, pulling the heavy door open. He’d had to blink hard to get his eyes to adjust to the figure that greeted him, Harry.

“Can I come in?” Harry had asked before Louis had a chance to speak.

Louis had just swallowed, nodding his head and waving Harry in. Harry was barefoot, in nothing but a pair of grey tracksuit bottoms and a white t-shirt. Louis had shut the door behind him, standing in front it, just watching Harry sit himself down on the corner of the bed.

“I couldn’t sleep.” Harry had mumbled, rubbing his forehead with his palm. It was barely even midnight.

Louis was quiet, making his way over to the bed, perching on the other corner. “Maybe my bed’s more comfortable?” Louis mumbled, picking at the stitching on the sheets.

It was silent for a moment, just the sound of the air con and Louis’ heart beating in his chest. 

“I think it is.” Harry had murmured back.

Louis bit his lip, “Stay?”

Harry had nodded, standing up and stepping over to the corner of the room. Louis just watched him wordlessly from the bed as Harry began to take off his clothes. Louis’ breath hitched in his throat as Harry stripped down to nothing but his boxers before turning around and crawling back under the duvet. Louis had followed suit, mimicking Harry’s actions before shuffling in next to him. Barely any words had left their lips since Harry knocked on the door, but it had felt like the most important conversation they’d had in weeks.

Louis had felt his bottom lip quiver, throat stinging as Harry had laid on his side, opening his arms and wrapping Louis up in them. It had felt like fresh water after a drought, being tangled up in Harry after having him at arms length for what felt like months. It’d felt like coming home, felt like he was home. He could be a thousand lightyears away from Earth, plunging into a black hole, but if Harry was there with him it’d still feel like he was exactly where he needed to be.

“This okay?” Harry had whispered into Louis’ hair, lips lingering there.

Louis had just nodded back, squeezing Harry tighter against him. He didn’t miss the dampness on the pillow under Harry’s cheek, or the way his eyelashes had been clumped together, wet. 

Louis had tried to stay awake as long as possible, savouring the feeling of safety and comfort he felt, entwined with Harry. Long after Harry himself had fallen asleep, Louis’ eyes burning with the effort to stay open, he’d finally drifted off himself.

He’d woken up to an empty bed, it was the first and last time they’d slept the night together.

***

Louis wanders through his rented LA house now, flopping himself down on the sofa and opening up his MacBook. He pulls up a word document he’d been working on last night, lyrics to a new song he’d been messing about with. 

He’d never expected to get so into song writing. Never expected to spend so much time scribbling down lyrics, pondering for hours over whether one particular phrase was worded well. Something about it was addicting though, pouring your emotions on to paper then hearing thousands of people scream them back at you months later. 

He highlights the text he’s already typed out, deleting the senseless rambling he’d gushed out at 3am. The words he types in it’s place seem to come to him easily, flowing through his veins and rushing out onto the keys. 

_Remember when, you were my boat and I was your sea? Together we'd float so delicately. But that was back when we could talk about anything._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Remember when, you were my boat and I was your sea? Together we'd float so delicately. But that was back when we could talk about anything." are lyrics from the song Fireworks by You Me At Six (go listen right now if you've never heard it because it's beautiful and also how could i resist an angsty nautical reference?)


	2. Chapter 2

For a party that’s hosted by Snoop Dogg, it’s a relatively low key event. It’s in some small, exclusive West Hollywood club that Louis doesn't recognise the name of. They haven’t long been here, but Louis is already at that lightheaded, lighthearted stage of inebriated. 

They’d all gone round to Liam’s LA place first, Louis, Oli and Calvin. Liam had welcomed them all with open arms and shot glasses. They’d done a round of shots of Liam’s expensive Tequila, Liam always overly eager to make sure everyone’s having a good time. Oli had produced a small sealed baggy of MDMA tabs, offering them around like the gentleman he is. Louis had declined, wary of getting too chatty and embarrassing himself, especially with so much running through his mind.

Now he’s at the club, he’s glad he didn’t take Oli up on his offer. Mostly because he’s just about sober enough to deal with Liam, who is definitely nowhere _near_ sober. He’s breathing down Louis’ neck trying to get him to spill about whats causing the heavy grey cloud thats been lingering over his head since he landed in LA.

“I know you, Tommo. I _know_ you.” Liam’s shouting to be heard over the deafening music. 

“I know you too, Liam. What’s your point?” Louis replies, speaking directly into Liam’s ear.

Liam leans back, shaking his head and smiling wide, pointing his finger at Louis. “I’m buying you another drink, lad.”

Louis is about to protest when Oli and Calvin pop out of nowhere, clumsily carrying a tray of Jagerbombs between them. “Oi oi!” Calvin shouts, precariously placing the tray down on the table next to them. Louis watches as a few of the plastic glasses topple over, sticky orange liquid spilling everywhere.

“Get ‘em down ya, boys.” Oli proclaims.

Louis picks up one of the cups and downs it in one long gulp, shuddering slightly at the sickeningly sweet taste. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. The other boys cheer behind him, reaching for their own and following suit. Liam slaps him on the back as Louis goes straight back for another, getting it down him even quicker than the first. Alcohol probably isn’t the answer to his issues, but it’s the only immediate solution he has right now.

*

Too many Jagerbombs, several colourful shots and a few bottles of beer later, Louis is wasted. He’s finding putting one foot in front of the other to be a particularly difficult task. He latches onto Oli and Calvin’s shoulders to help him tackle the stairs to the smoking area without incident. Louis is trying to get them all to finger point along to the music, reaching out for Liam’s hand and forcing him into it when he wont comply. After whats probably an embarrassingly lengthy amount of time, they reach the top of the stairs and step out on the smoking balcony. It’s crammed with people of varying levels of intoxication, but it provides a welcome quiet from the deafening music inside. Louis leads the four of them into a free corner, rummaging in his pocket for a packet of cigarettes and a lighter. 

“I only smoke when I’m drunk.” He lies to nobody in particular, lifting a cigarette to his lips. He struggles with the lighter, flicking at the wheel but only getting sparks. Out of nowhere, Liam lifts his own lighter to Louis’ cigarette, getting it first time.

“Thank you so much, mate. I love you.” He says to Liam with absolute sincerity, eyes wide and head nodding. Liam’s eyes light up and he drops his mouth into a wide smile, turning to Oli and Calvin.

“He loves me!” He exclaims, slinging a heavy arm around Louis’ shoulders.

The four of them stand hunched together, talking in drunken nonsense. Oli and Calvin finish their cigarettes first, flicking the filters to the ground.

“Meet you back inside?” Calvin asks, pulling Oli along with him.

“Yeah, won’t be long.” Louis replies, watching them stumbling off back into the club.

“Just me and you now, baby.” Liam slurs, giggling at his words.

Louis laughs, taking a drag of his cigarette, exhaling and blowing the smoke up. He follows it with his eyes, watching it disperse and disappear into the night sky. “D’ya miss the old days, Payno?” He asks him, flicking the ash off the end of his cigarette. Liam just hiccups in response, taking a swig from whatever alcoholic drink is in his hand. “Miss all of us mates, fucking around. Doing shit all together.” Louis keeps going, not even sure if Liam’s listening. “That’s why I’m so fucking mardy, innit? Remember the first time we came to LA?”

Liam perks up, “Yeah! It was sick!”

“It _was sick_ , Liam. Me and Harry went shopping together.” For some reason, in Louis’ intoxicated state, the only thing he can seem to remember about the bands first visit to LA is that he and Harry apparently went shopping together. 

“Did ya?” Liam asks him. “We recorded our first album too.”

“Shit, we did as well.” Louis responds. “That’s weird innit?” Liam just hums in agreement, taking a last drag of his cigarette before letting it fall to the ground. “Don’t you remember though?” Louis begins, poking Liam in the side when he realises he isn’t listening. “Don’t you remember Liam, me and Harry went shopping?”

Liam humours him, “Yeah, mate. Shopping, yeah.”

Louis huffs, crossing his arms, nearly singeing himself with his cigarette that’s almost burnt out. “I bet Harry remembers. He would remember, wouldn’t he?”

“One hundred percent, mate.” Liam mumbles, somewhat unconvincingly back at him.

“Do you think I should ring him and ask him if he remembers?” Liam just raises his eyebrows at him, taking another sip of his drink. “Fuck it. I’m gonna ring him.” 

Liam shrugs, watching Louis fumble around in his pockets for his phone. Louis’ head feels heavy, unable to focus on more than one thought at a time. He needs someone to reassure him, tell him those moments spent with Harry were real. That they did happen, it wasn't all some weirdly vivid dream. Finally, he gets his phone out of his pocket, struggling to enter the passcode when everything looks like a blur.

He doesn’t feel himself typing in Harry’s phone number, doesn’t register scanning his brain for the digits he still remembers with ease. Liam’s watching him closely as he holds the phone up to his ear, eyebrows still raised. It rings for what seems like a century, Louis can tell Liam’s about to open his mouth and tell him to hang up, when finally, Harry picks up.

“Alright?” Harry’s low voice echoes through the phone.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, good.” Louis babbles, nodding his head erratically at Liam.

“Um.” Harry drawls, “Everything okay?”

“It’s good, it’s good. Listen, Hazza,” Louis hears Harry’s breath hitch a bit when the nickname slips out. “Can I ask you a question?” 

There’s a few moments of hesitation before Harry replies. “What is it, Louis?”

Louis pauses for a second, a million and one words flying around in his head. 

“ _Shopping._ ” Liam mouths at him, over-exaggerated.

“Shit. Yeah, shopping. Do you remember the first time we ever came to LA? Me and you, we went shopping together. D’you remember it?”

He hears Harry swallow. “Yeah, we bought like, six bags full of Abercrombie and Fitch.” Harry laughs softly, “Why’d you ask?”

Louis feels a warmness seep over him, stomach fluttering as Harry's words spill through the speaker. “Liam. _Payno._ Bastard said he didn’t remember it.” 

“I said no such thing!” Liam quips back, offended.

Harry chuckles down the phone. “Are you drunk?”

“No. I mean, well, yeah I am a bit. Not too much though. Sort of, yeah.” Louis slurs, not really sure where he’s going.

“Well, we did definitely go shopping together, I can confirm. I’m gonna go now, though.” 

“Hang on a minute Haz, why don’t you come and meet us? Me and Payno are here, and Snoop Dogg is here too! _Snoop Dogg!_ ”

Harry’s quiet, “I would, but-“

“Please?” Louis interrupts him. “We’re in West Hollywood, it’s not far. I can get Alberto to give you a lift here.”

“Louis, I’m in Calabasas. With Jeff.”

“Oh.” Louis’ face drops, warm feeling quickly departing. “Oh, sorry. Didn’t mean to disturb you.”

“You didn’t, Lou. Don’t hang up a second.”

Louis goes to take a drag from his cigarette before realising it’s not even lit anymore, burnt completely down to the filter. Liam’s just looking at him, biting his bottom lip.

“You still there?” Harry asks him, his voice clearer now.

“Yeah.” Louis sighs, head feeling heavy on his shoulders.

“I cant make it tonight, but I’m not busy tomorrow. I’ll call you, yeah? In the morning, when you’re sober. We can do something?”

Louis breathes in deeply, blinking slowly and trying to make the floor stop spinning. “D’you promise you’ll call?” Louis asks, too drunk to hold back his vulnerability and neediness.

Harry lets out a breathy laugh. “Promise.”

“Okay.” Louis sighs, ending the call without saying goodbye. He turns to Liam, walking straight into his open arms. “Can we leave now?” 

*

Alberto is ready and waiting to escort Louis out, taking him by the arm and leading him out of the club doors and into the swarm of frenzied paparazzi waiting outside. Hot white flashes blind Louis, the imprints scarred across the inside of his eyelids when he shuts them. The sound of a million camera shutters flicker and snap, breaking up the air like a round of bullets from a gun. 

Some girl Louis has never seen before in his life has attached herself to his arm. Louis is oddly thankful for her, using her like a human shield to deflect the never ending flashes of the cameras. One pap gets too close, shoving the girl and nearly making her topple over on her heels.

“Mate, fucking watch it!” Louis shouts at the pap, scooping the girl up by her arm. “Fucking dick head!” Louis calls out as Alberto pushes both him and the stranger into the back of a black SUV. It’s like falling into a vacuum, the absolute silence and darkness of the inside of the car. The cool stream of air coming from the vents. 

Louis groans, letting his head fall back against the head rest. “Sorry about that, love.” He speaks into the void, eyes jammed shut, flashes still burnt into his eyelids.

“That’s alright.” The girl speaks, heavy American accent. “Sorry you have to deal with that all the time.”

“Nah, it’s cool.” Louis says, lolling his head forward and opening his eyes to get a look at the person seated next to him. “Who actually are you?” Louis blurts out, still too drunk to remember correct social etiquette. 

The girl just laughs kindly, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Uh, your friend Calvin? He told me to get in this car, said it’d drop me back at his place.”

Louis raises his eyebrows, chuckling. “Nice one, he’s quite the lad.”

She giggles back at him, “No mystery blondes for you then?”

Louis breathes in deeply, thinking back to the phone call with Harry that he’s probably going to regret once he’s sober enough to remember how. “Nah.” He murmurs, rubbing at his forehead and furrowing his eyebrows.

“Ah, shit.” The girl sighs. “Girl trouble, huh?” 

When Louis doesn’t respond, she’s quick to add on, “Or boy trouble?”

Louis swallows harshly, not making eye contact. “Something like that.”

The girl reaches out to pat his knee, “Hey, we’ve all been there.” Louis just laughs softly in response, palming over his forehead, headache already setting in. “Do you have a bad head? I have an aspirin in my purse if you want one?” 

Louis nods, reaching out for the complimentary bottle of water in the seat holder in front of him. “That’d be ace.”

She takes the pack out of her purse, popping the seal and handing Louis an aspirin. “I’m not drugging you, I swear.” Louis chuckles, taking the pill and swallowing it down with water. He feels the car come to a halt as he screws the lid back on, placing it back in front of him. “Looks like this is my stop.” The girl says, unbuckling her seatbelt as they pull up in front of Calvin’s rented place.

“Nice meeting you, mystery blonde.” Louis jokes. “Thanks for the aspirin.”

“My name is Joy.” She responds letting herself out of the car. “And you’re welcome.”

“Enjoy Calvin, Joy!” Louis winks as she steps out. She scoffs back at him, playfully flipping him the finger before shutting the car door behind her. 

*

Louis cant remember much of the car journey after Joy left. Either he’d slipped into a gentle doze or he was just suffering from memory loss in his drunken state. He’s wrapped up in bed now, head still pounding despite the aspirin. One thing he does remember though, can’t stop thinking about actually, is what Joy had said to him. “ _Or boy trouble?_ ” It’ so alien to Louis, so foreign for someone to talk about him and boys like they would about him and girls. Being thrown into this band at such a young age, a band who’s image is so entirely focused on appealing to young girls, has left Louis sheltered.

Every single interviewer, every single fan, every single person who speaks to them for longer than thirty seconds, probing them about _girls_. What do they look for in a girl? Who are the hottest women in Hollywood? Which of them has a girlfriend? What celebrity lady would they take on a date? When Louis checks his phone tomorrow, there’ll probably be a million and one articles written about how him and Joy are hooking up, even though all they did was get into a car together. All of a sudden, Louis is seething. It’s such bullshit, all of it.

Louis has always hated those fucking questions, diverting and making a joke out of them for as long as he can remember being asked them. When he’d been with Eleanor, he’d never had to think about why. He’d pass off his annoyance at the questions as just the irritation of having to name girls he found hot when he had a girlfriend, _thank you very much_. Now here, in his bed, it feels a lot like a drunken revelation. If a random stranger he carpooled with has the decency to not be heteronormative, forcing girls down his throat, why doesn’t the rest of the fucking world?

_Or boy trouble?_

He wonders if any of the other boys have thought about it. If any of them have laid awake, tossing and turning over three words said to them by a drunken clubber in a rental car. But mostly, he wonders if Harry has ever thought about it. Harry’s always taken the worst of it, always been the one singled out and targeted. Had articles written like fact about how he’s slept with four hundred and ten women. Louis doesn’t even think Harry _knows_ four hundred and ten women.

The worst of it came with the PR mess that was Harry and Taylor Swift. Louis remembers getting the teary call from Harry, almost unwilling to believe what he was telling him through the phone. “They cant _make_ you Harry, that’s ridiculous.”

“It’s in the contract, Lou. Scheduled appearances and promotional outings. It counts.”

“But they cant force you to call her your girlfriend, it’s bullshit.”

“I don’t have to confirm anything. But we have to hold hands and shit like that for photos, we might have to kiss depending on how it goes.”

“You don’t have to do anything, Harry.”

“It wont be _that_ bad. Just get papped with her a few times, hold her hand once or twice. I’ve done worse. I’ll be fine.” 

He wasn’t fine, neither of them were. It got to Louis, seeing Harry being used like nothing more than a poster boy for their teams ridiculous PR plan. The thing was, it had worked as well. Harry had shot to new levels of fame as Taylor Swift’s boyfriend. He was getting papped and mobbed relentlessly, dragged half way across the world and back to be photographed with Taylor. It meant Louis and Harry barely got to see each other apart from at work. Harry always carted off to walk around some shitty zoo or park, hand in hand with her whilst Louis would sit cooped up in the venue, Eleanor offering him endless cups of comfort tea.

The peak of the bullshit came towards the end of 2012. It was leading up to Christmas, all of the boys looking forward to well earned time off to be with their families. Louis had been sat alone in the green room backstage, fiddling with his phone when Harry had stormed in, eyes streaming. Louis shot up, beelining towards and Harry and wrapping his arms around him in a tight embrace. They’d stood silently for a few minutes, Harry’s chest heaving as he cried into Louis’ shoulder. They’d broken apart just a fraction, so Louis could get a look at Harry face. He’d tucked a strand of hair behind his ear, letting his fingers linger momentarily against his tear stained cheek.

“What happened, Haz?”

Harry had breathed in shakily, not letting go of Louis. “I don’t want to do it.” He'd whispered into his shoulder.

“What, love? What happened?”

“I have to take her back to Holmes Chapel to get papped, I’m only getting four days off at Christmas and I’ve got to kiss her in New York on New Years Eve.” Harry had let out all in one breath, pulling apart to look Louis in the eye. 

Louis had been silent, willing himself not to start crying too and make it worse for Harry. “You’re not going to be home for New Years?” He whispered, quiet voice almost breaking.

Harry had shook his head solemnly. “I have to go skiing with her too. You know how shit I am at skiing.”

Louis had laughed at that, pulling Harry in closer and rubbing up and down his back. “It’ll be over before you know it, Haz. I promise.” 

Harry had started to cry again at that, tears wetting Louis’ t-shirt. “It’s just so _shit._ I just want to be home. I wanna be with my family. Wanna be with you.”

Louis inhaled sharply at that, heart pounding against his ribcage. “I’m always _with_ you Harry. Even if you’re on some fuckin’…tropical paradise island with Taylor Swift. I’m still… here.” He’d poked at the spot where Harry’s heart was, a little bit embarrassed at how corny the gesture was. “And you’re still _here._ ” He’d said, mimicking the motion on himself. He’d squeezed at Harry’s frame, holding him tight and whispering softly, “S’like you’re…like you’re my home.”

A few weeks later in the midst of the awfulness, they’d gotten it inked into their skin forever in the form of a ship and a compass. Neither complete without the other. The ship needs the compass to guide it home safe, the compass designed for that very purpose.

Louis finds himself lying in bed now, thumbing over his compass with the words “home” etched into it. Wonders if Harry feels lost, drifting slow on an open ocean. Wonders if Harry knows Louis is just waiting to guide him back to safe waters.

*

Louis is awoken by the god awful sound of his phone buzzing incessantly against the hard wood bedside table. His head still fucking wrecks, eyes burning at the sharp sunlight seeping its way in through the cracks in the blinds. He rolls over, groaning as he picks up his phone. When he sees the Caller ID he almost has a heart attack. It’s Harry. Suddenly, last night comes flooding back to him. Calling Harry at the club, rambling on about something to do with shopping, getting in the car with a girl he cant quite remember the name of. He swallows, clearing his throat a few times before finally picking up.

“Hello,” He squeaks, voice catching in his throat, mouth still dry and dehydrated from the alcohol.

“Um, hiya. S’Harry.” Harry gravels down the phone.

“I know, Caller ID.” Louis retorts, gaining a little chuckle from Harry’s end.

“Right, yeah. Um, I don’t know if you remember, but. Last night, you rang me?” 

Louis cringes at the memory, mentally cursing Liam for letting him go through with it. “Yeah, sorry about that mate. I was _quite_ drunk.”

“I guessed,” Harry laughs. “Um, I’m just ringing because, y’know. Last night, I sorta…promised you that I would.”

Shit. A part of Louis was honestly hoping he’d imagined that exchange. “Ah, yeah. That you did.”

Harry’s quiet for a moment, probably trying to find an excuse to hang up as soon as humanly possible. “M’sorry I couldn’t make it last night.”

“Thats alright, was a bit shit anyway.” Louis replies, flopping himself back down on the pillows.

“Um,” Harry mumbles, “I meant it though, what I said.” 

Fuck, was there some key plot point Louis was conveniently missing from his memory here? What the hell had he said to Harry last night? “Erm…meant about what?” Louis stammers, cheeks flushing pink.

“Like, when I said we could do something tomorrow. Well, today. Like, hang out. I still want to, if you do.” 

Louis feels his heart start to do double time in his chest, can hear it beating in the shell of his ears. He pauses, regulating his breathing. “Are you sure we’re like, allowed?”

“What’d’ya mean?” Comes Harry’s voice, perplexed.

“I dunno. Like, with management and stuff?” It’s so embarrassing to say that out loud. “Us getting spotted, could look sorta…” He trails off, not really knowing how to finish the sentence.

“I guess?” Harry questions. “I wasn't really thinking of like, stopping at a Starbucks in the mall or anything.”

Louis snickers, rolling his eyes. “Obviously.”

“I know a few places we can eat, no phones or cameras allowed. Exclusive and all that.”

 _Of course he does,_ Louis thinks. “Alright, consider me officially up for it.” He says, more confident than he feels.

“Cool. I’ll text you details and we can meet there?” 

“Yeah sure, see you then.”

“Bye, Lou.”

“Bye.”

Louis hangs up and breathes for what feels like the first time since he picked up the phone. The last thing he was expecting was for Harry to follow through and ring him. He wouldn’t have even blamed him if he hadn’t. Part of Louis wishes the ground would swallow him whole, devour him so he doesn’t ever have to get out of bed and tackle the Harry issue. Another part of him is strangely excited, though. He honestly can’t remember the last time him and Harry went out together, just the two of them in public. It’s daunting. Also baffling. They’re around each other at work almost every day of the year. The way they’ve been pretending like they don't even exist in the same universe anymore to the public, to the point where they have to resort to no pictures allowed restaurants is honestly a bit ridiculous. Even for them.

Barely minutes after hanging up, Louis gets a text from Harry with the details of the place.

**’Al Mare in Santa Monica? They do private rooms and have amazing pizza. 3.00pm alright? -H x’**

Louis grins, dying to text back something along the lines of ‘I have your number saved, you don’t need to sign it ‘H’ this isn’t Pretty Little Liars.’ 

Instead, he settles for **’3 is fine , pizza sounds sick. see you there’**

Now the plans are solidified, Louis feels a sickly wave of nerves sweep over him. It’s gone twelve already, Louis’ hangover causing him to oversleep. He needs to shower, he stinks of alcohol and cigarettes and his fringe is greasy where he’s been combing his fingers through it all night. He has no idea what the dress code is for places like Al Mare. Are jeans allowed? Are you expected to wear dress shoes? Louis doesn’t even _have_ dress shoes. He finds himself typing ‘exclusive LA restaurant dress code’ into Google, groaning when the results offer nothing but whiny tourists on TripAdvisor. 

Louis has been to his fair share of exclusive restaurants in his time, but it feels like theres a little more resting on this. He knows Harry’s slotted perfectly into place here, it’s blinding obvious how happy LA makes him. How at ease he seems, how almost every resident of the place is bending over backwards to spend five minutes with him. He’s got his little clique of friends though, models and actors he refers to by nickname. Louis cant help but feel like he’s barging in on that, prising Harry away from his expensive friends. Intruding on a place that’s Harry’s managed to turn into a sanctuary of sorts, a different world from the madness and fast paced lifestyle of the band. A world that doesn’t include so much as a trace of Louis.

Maybe that’s been part of the problem though, they used to be so smothered in each other that they never had a chance to come up for air. They’d lived together, worked together, spent nearly all of their free time together. Looking back now, that stifling closeness couldn’t have been healthy. They were co-dependant, the centre of each others universes. Although sometimes it’d felt like Harry had been a planet and Louis was just space shrapnel stuck in his orbit. When Harry had started to branch out, Louis had taken it hard. 

Back in the day, it’d been Harry’s London hipster friends that had gotten under his skin the most. Nick being the main aggravator. There was really nothing to dislike about Nick, he was funny and friendly, the epitome of charisma and charm. Him and Harry had hit it off instantly, going out clubbing in swanky Soho bars and spending nights together in Nick’s apartment. It’s just that the upwards trajectory of Harry’s friendship with Nick had all but coincided with the downfall of Louis’. 

That’s the thing with Harry, he gets bored. He’s got so much love to give, so much adoration and excitement and he wants to share it with as many people as possible. Louis’ kept track of how Harry skips and jumps from one person to the next. It’d been Nick, then Ed and now it was Jeff. Louis’ feels his throat burn when he wonders if Harry really does just think of him as another name on a long list of acquaintances. 

He sighs heavily, kicking off the duvet and shrugging himself out of bed. He doesn’t have long to get ready, the drive to Santa Monica a fair distance. He thinks back to the phone call earlier, wondering if he should let his publicist know that’s he’s going to be out with Harry. Maybe set up some diversions or tip off fans with incorrect information, just incase.

 _Fuck it._ He thinks. He’s just having lunch with his bandmate, a bandmate he very publicly lived with for years. He doesn’t have to set up a fucking diversion to allow him to hang out with Niall or Liam or Zayn, what difference does it make that it’s Harry?

He pads barefooted into the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water he finds hanging around it the fridge. It tastes amazingly cool and refreshing, a welcome contrast to the heavy, dry alcohol he can still feel in his throat. Grabbing a pack of cigarettes and a lighter, he pulls open the patio doors that lead out onto the decking. It’s relatively cool outside, a light breeze breaking up the humidity. He sits down on one of the swing chairs, tucking his feet under him. 

As he lights up, he notices a lone magpie pecking around in the far side of the yard. It reminds him of home. There would always be a line of magpies congregated on the washing line in the back garden after his mum had brought the dry clothes in. When Louis was little, she’d always point them out to him, getting him to count them for her. There was a special song she’d sing as he counted, about how the number of magpies you’d spotted told you what kind of luck you’d have that day.

_“One for sorrow, two for joy.”_

Louis rolls his eyes as he watches the one lonely magpie poking around in the undergrowth. He takes a heavy drag of his cigarette, blowing the smoke out through his nose. His eyes widen as out of nowhere, three other birds swoop down into the garden, causing a ruckus as they join the other bird, trying to get at something in the ground.

_“Three for a girl, four for a boy.”_

Louis lobs his water bottle at them, shaking his head as he watches the four of them fly off. Superstitious bullshit.

*

Louis is early, it’s only just gone twenty to three when he pulls into the restaurants car park. He’d been dressed and ready to leave with plenty of time to spare, pacing anxiously around his villa as he watched the time on the clock get closer to three. Eventually he’d decided that just getting in the car and driving there, albeit early, would help restore his sanity a lot more than endlessly circling the perimeter of the living room.

He taps his fingers against the steering wheel, turning up the volume on the radio to give him a distraction. It’s some local LA station; a loud mouthed, too enthusiastic DJ jabbering on about something or another. Louis zones out, resting his head against the window pane. The cool glass a welcome contrast to how fiery hot his skin feels. He stays there a little longer, eyes glassing over and focusing on nothing in particular.

_“And of course the Billboard Music Awards are this Sunday. We’ll be playing the hottest hits from the star studded line up of nominees all week!”_

Louis flips back to reality, blinking fast when he takes in what the radio DJ is saying. He’d all but forgotten the band will be attending the awards in Vegas. Luckily, there’s no performance so he hasn’t been plagued with the monotony of rehearsals. Award shows are definitely one of the perks of being in a boyband. They all still get starstruck at the seemingly endless array of A List celebrities they’re seated next to. Louis remembers being sat behind Rihanna last award show season, still unsure if she was actually a real human or just a figment of his imagination. Winning feels amazing too, and One Direction is hardly struggling in that area, nearly always winning every award they’re nominated for. 

Louis remembers how they always used to bicker over who would take the mic on stage and give a thank you speech. Everyone had instantly nominated him, Niall calling him their “spokesperson” and Harry reiterating how he was the “leader.” He’d resisted, so nervous that he’d fuck up and look stupid on stage in front of millions. Although he’s always been extraverted, brash and loud, a lot of it is often a result of looming insecurities. Almost like a facade, a character he plays. If he keeps talking, people don't really get a chance to ask questions.

Louis turns the radio back down a notch as some mediocre pop song he doesn’t know the name of starts to spill through the speakers. As he leans back in his seat, he catches a shiny black Audi pulling into the car park in his rear view mirror. He checks the time on the dashboard, just past ten to. If it’s Harry then he’s early too. He sits back against the leather, trying not to stare at the car reversing into a space. He’s just about to unlock his phone when it buzzes in his palm.

**’Are you sitting in the car park in a range rover?’**

Louis feels himself blush as he reads the message from Harry, wondering if he caught him frantically fixing his hair in the mirror. 

**’are you poorly executing a reverse park in an Audi ?’** Louis replies, taking his keys out of the ignition. 

**’Hey I’m in between the lines…thats all that matters.’** comes Harry’s reply.

Louis laughs to himself, swallowing his nerves as he steps out of the car and into the car park. He turns to where Harry’s parked, offering him a small wave. Suddenly he’s unsure of what his next move should be, is he meant to go over to Harry? Wait by his own car? He settles for awkwardly pretending he’s forgotten to lock his doors, fiddling with the buttons on his keys a few times whilst he waits for Harry to get out of his car.

When he looks back up, he’s met by the sight of Harry strolling his way across the asphalt. All of a sudden Louis feels ridiculously underdressed. Harry’s gone for jeans too, which makes him feel slightly better. But they’re paired with a cream silk shirt, loose and open, only a few buttons done up. His hair is blowing in the wind, that glamorous and calculated way that only seems possible in movies, except Harry’s actually right in front of him. He pulls off the movie star heartthrob look almost perfectly, only shattering the illusion slightly when he trips over his own feet as he approaches Louis.

“Steady on.” Louis chuckles, tucking his keys in his back pocket. 

“Bloody uneven surfaces.” Harry mumbles, brushing himself down. “Hi.” He says softly, looking back at Louis.

“Alright?” Louis asks with a smile.

“Yeah, m’good. You’re early, s’not like you.” 

“Erm, yeah. I left early, incase I got lost on the way. Know what I’m like with directions.” Louis lies. “S’your excuse for showing up ten minutes too soon then?”

Harry hums quietly, pursing his lips. “Can I steal yours?”

Louis bites back a smirk, looking at the floor. “Shall we go inside?”

Harry nods, “Sounds like a plan.”

*

They’d been escorted to their private room by a waiter who either didn’t give two shits about boyband members or had been formally instructed to act like he didn’t. The room is beautiful. Charcoal tiles covering the floor, polished and sleek. It’s minimalist, like most buildings in LA, uninterrupted white walls and a high beam ceiling. Their table is situated directly in front of an enormous glass window, scaling the entire span of one wall. It looks out over the bay below, shimmering blue sea lapping at the cove in the headland.

“Sick view.” Louis comments, turning to Harry.

Harry nods back at him, “Yeah, it’s one way glass as well. So, like, we can see out. But the people down on the beach can’t see in.”

“Bloody ‘ell.” Louis exhales. “You weren't joking when you said exclusive.”

Harry laughs once through his nose, shrugging. “It’s nice to get away sometimes.”

Louis suddenly feels a slight twang of sadness in his stomach. None of them have had it easy, names in the limelight for what feels like forever. But sometimes it feels like Harry’s on a different level of madness altogether. He’s a household name in a way that the other boys aren't so much. And its mostly for all the wrong reasons. It makes Louis gut wrench a bit when he thinks about the efforts Harry has to go to just to eat dinner in peace.

Before Louis can say anything else, the waiter comes to their table. “Can I offer you anything to drink?” He asks, flipping open his notepad. 

“A Corona.” Louis starts, at the exact same time Harry says “An ice water.”

The waiter raises his eyebrows slightly, “Pardon?”

Harry lets out an awkward laugh, gesturing for Louis to speak first. “Erm…” Louis mumbles, “A bottle of Corona Extra?”

The waiter scribbles it down in his note pad. “And for you, sir?”

“Uh, just an ice water, please.” Harry replies.

The waiter nods, “I’ll get those for you right away.”

They both say thank you as he goes to get their drinks, leaving them alone again. “Corona with a hangover? Interesting move.” Harry comments, idly folding up a napkin laid out on the table.

“Isn’t there a saying that the best way to cure a hangover is with more alcohol?” Louis says, semi serious. 

Harry laughs back at him, “Don’t think I’ve heard that one.”

The waiter brings their drinks and hands them a menu each. They sit in a somewhat comfortable silence for a while, pondering over the menu, contemplating on what to have.  
It feels strange sat here with Harry, Louis cant deny that. It’s been so long since the two of them hung out together, just them. It feels even stranger now that Louis is stuck in this weird headspace, Harry taking up practically every spare corner of his brain.

It’s actually a bit overwhelming to be sat opposite him, to have Harry all to himself, attention undivided. He hasn’t noticed Harry check his phone once yet, wonders if he’s making a conscious effort not to. There’s a nagging in the back of his mind, a lingering thought that wont leave him alone. _Everything’s so different now._ Harry used to hang off every word that left Louis’ lips, nodding his head and absorbing whatever information it was that Louis was offering up. Laughing ecstatically, loud and over exaggerated at all of his jokes. Louis’ had always felt like the most important person in the world when Harry was there, the funniest and the most interesting. Harry has this ability to make you feel like that, like one thin sliver of his approval could fuel you for weeks.

“What’re you getting?” His voice comes now.

Louis looks up from his menu, meeting Harry’s eyes and swallowing harshly. “Well you did recommend the pizza…so…” He trails off.

“That’s a good idea, what topping?”

“Gotta be pepperoni, innit?”

Harry hums in agreement, “Solid choice.”

There’s that feeling again.

*

“A Classic American for the gentleman.” The waiter says, placing Louis’ pizza down on the table in front of him.  “And a Fiorentina for the _other_ gentleman.” Louis’ eyes widen as the waiter presents Harry with his food. “Enjoy your meals.” He says, leaving the table. 

Louis breathes in slowly, blinking at Harry’s dish. “No offence mate, but what the fuck is that?”

Harry furrows his eyebrows at him, pouting his lips. “Fiorentina pizza.”

Whatever it is Harry’s about to tuck into, it barely resembles a pizza at all. It’s covered in weird green shit, and there’s a bloody fried egg in the middle of it. “It’s just spinach, olives and egg. On a pizza.” Harry explains, cutting himself a slice.

Louis raises his eyebrows, nodding slowly. “Sorry, but vegetables don’t count as pizza toppings in my world.”

“What about jalapeños?” Harry shoots back instantly, eyeing up Louis’ chilli covered meal.

Louis smirks, looking up at Harry through his eyelashes. “Touché.” 

“Try it?” Harry asks him. Harry could probably ask Louis to try jumping out of a plane without a parachute and he’d be falling through the stratosphere before he even finished the question. Louis just nods back at him, watching as Harry cuts him a neat little square of pizza. Louis holds his breath when Harry holds the square out on his fork, leaning over the table just so. There’s a second where Louis thinks Harry’s actually going to feed him it, place the fork between his lips with a smirk. The way they probably would have done at one point.

“Um.” Harry coughs, putting the fork on his plate and gently pushing it towards Louis.

Louis reaches out for it, popping the square of pizza into his mouth. Harry watches him intently as he chews, Louis feeling his cheeks burn under his stare. He swallows, washing it down with a quick swig of Corona. “You like?” Harry probes, taking his plate back.

Louis mulls over his answer for a few moments. “Hm. Edible.”

Harry scoffs, rolling his eyes fondly. “Dickhead.”

Louis laughs back at him before tucking into his own meal. Harry was right, it is amazing pizza. The whole place is amazing actually, an almost soothing ambience about the light and airy room they’re seated in. It suits Harry, the warm sun spilling in through the glass window panes and lighting up his skin, rays bouncing off the sheen in his silk shirt. Louis catches himself dragging his eyes over Harry’s chest where his buttons are undone. He’s golden, skin glowing, tan like visible evidence of all the time he’s spent bathing in the Los Angeles sun. A million miles away from the porcelain boy he’d met in a bathroom almost five years ago.

For a moment Louis is angry, angry at Harry and angry at himself. Angry that there’s been a substantial period of time where they’ve been all but non-existent in each others worlds. It’d been glaringly obvious from the word go that they were at their best when they were with the other. So in tune, mirrors and complete opposites all at the same time. Above all else they’d just been fucking _happy._ So happy to have found each other, so overwhelmed at the obscurity of the circumstances that had led them together. Louis finds himself blinking quickly, nostrils flared. He clears his throat, wiping quickly at his eyes.

“Thats a posh watch.” Louis comments, voice coming out a bit shaky.

Harry lifts his wrist up, holding it out in front of his face and examining the shiny gold watch draped around it. “Oh, yeah. It’s not mine, actually. Um, you know Jeff?” 

Louis has to resist from rolling eyes, of course he knows Jeff. “Azoff?”

Harry nods “Yeah, it’s his. M’just borrowing it. It…uh, goes with this outfit.” Harry says, fiddling with the clasp.

Louis hums, chewing on a piece of pizza. “What’s up with you and him anyway?” It comes out sounding bitter, Louis automatically looking at the floor.

Harry raises his eyebrows, clearing his throat. “What d’you mean?” He asks slowly.

“Nothing.” Louis responds, trying to make his voice sound light. “I just mean like, I don't know. Just noticed you spend a lot of time together s’all.”

Harry takes a sip of his drink, eyes watching Louis intently. “I guess? He’s helping me out with stuff, him and his dad.”

“Helping you out? With what?” Louis questions, finishing off his food and placing his cutlery on the plate. 

Harry doesn’t answer for a moment, picking at his leftovers. “Um, managing things. Cleaning up my public image, mostly.”

“How’d you mean?” Louis probes him, slightly irritated at Harry’s vague yet lengthy way of explaining things.

“I mean, the press have being calling me a womaniser since I was sixteen, it’s hardly an accurate representation of reality.” Harry says, scratching at his neck. “I don't want that anymore. I want to be able to be myself.” He pauses, taking a deep breath. “I want to be honest.”

Louis breathes in deep, an overwhelming urge to reach across the table and grab Harry’s hand. He’s practically watched this boy grow up in front of him. He’s seen every form of Harry, every phase and every attitude. He’s seen the Harry the public sees, cheeky and charming. Centre of attention and loving it. He’s also seen the Harry only a handful of people have seen, quiet and pensive, trying to find himself within the image thats been sculpted for him.

“That’s good, that’s good. Happy for you.” He stutters before swallowing hard, “Honesty is good.”

For a moment it looks like Harry is waiting for something, for a moment to happen. Like they’re on the cusp of something. Sat on the edge of their seats. “It is.” Is all he says, “I’m just gonna nip to the bathroom.” 

Louis watches as he gets up. He offers him a small smile as Harry tucks his chair in. “You’re not gonna escape through the window in the cubicle and ditch me are you?” 

Harry laughs loudly, bringing his hand up to cover his mouth before shaking his head and sighing dramatically. “My plan is foiled.”

Louis’ eyes follow him all the way out of the room as he leaves through the sliding door into the main restaurant. He slides back in his seat, letting his head loll backwards and taking a deep breath. He taps his fingers against the arm of the chair, rubbing two together, suddenly craving a cigarette. He thinks back to what Harry said _“I want to be honest.”_ It had felt loaded with impact, a lot more meaning than those five words could convey. There had been moments throughout their friendship that had felt like this, moments where the follow up could have been massive but had fallen short. Times where they’d toed that line, precariously balancing over the edge, not brave enough to link hands and jump together.

It’s hard, it’s so hard to think with a clear mind when the rest of the world is doing its best to dilute it. It feels like the worst thing in the world to want to reach out and touch someone when there are people paid thousands to keep you on opposite sides of the room. It fucking _aches_ when people who “only want the best for you” condemn your actions that feel like second nature. Here he is, sat in a private room of an exclusive restaurant with _one way glass,_ just incase somebody happens to spot him and Harry spending time together. 

He remembers that conversation with their team, _“Why don’t any of the other boys have to tone anything down?”_ Sat here now, he feels a lot closer to the answer.

He pulls his phone out, searching for Lottie’s number. He finds it and types **‘can i Skype you later about 6pm la time ? xxx’** The time difference just adds to the number of factors that makes LA feel alien. It’ll be 2am back home, but his sister is always on at him to call whenever it’s easiest for him. “I never sleep, I swear. I’m on my phone practically all night anyway.”

Out of everything that being in One Direction had given him, bringing him closer to his younger sister wasn't something he’d expected. The age gap between them is relatively large, six years being sizeable enough for them to have never properly bonded. But ever since things really got going for Louis, it’s only made their relationship stronger. He supposes some of it may be do with the perks that having a famous older brother brings, but he’s thankful none the less.

He gets a reply almost right away. **'Yeah sure, everything ok? xxxx'**

**“Everything’s fine just need a catch up !”**

He responds, tucking his phone back in his pocket as he sees Harry making his way back into the room.

Harry coughs as he settles himself back down at the table, brushing himself off. Louis offers him a smile, he notices Harry’s face is slightly blotchy, cheeks flushed. Harry smiles back, taking a long sip of his water.

“I’m really glad you called me.” Louis blurts out, breaking the silence.

Harry doesn't speak straight away, swilling the water around in his mouth before swallowing. “I mean, technically you called me first.”

Louis groans inwardly, furrowing his eyebrows. “People really need to take my phone away from me when I’m drunk.”

Harry smirks, raising the corner of his mouth. “Could’ve been worse.” 

Louis nods, avoiding eye contact. “S’weird, I just had this like…urge to call you. Payno was on about the first time we ever came to LA and I told him me and you went shopping together. But then I had this really strange moment where I wasn’t sure if it actually happened or not.” 

Harry bites his lip, trailing his finger around the rim of his glass. “I get that sometimes, can’t remember whats real and what I’ve imagined.”

“Yeah,” Louis says quietly. 

Harry audibly gulps, fiddling with a longer strand of hair. “I’ve…I’ve wanted to do this, like, for ages. I just didn't really know how to go about it. Spend time with you. Just the two of us.” Harry breathes in shakily, not taking his attention away from his glass on the table. “I miss you a lot, you know.”

Louis feels his stomach drop, skin prickling. It feels like if he opens his mouth nothing will come out. He presses his lips together, biting down on his tongue. Finally, Harry looks up, eyes wide and searching. Louis looks back at him, Harry’s got his arms wrapped around himself, hugging tight. Louis has to look away when he catches Harry’s thumb rubbing over his shirt, directly over the place on his bicep where the ship tattoo is.

“I miss you too, Haz.” He finally gets out, clearing his throat when his voice sounds choked. “Like, a ridiculous amount. And I’m really fucking sorry it took a drunken phone call to get us here.”

Before either of them can say anything else, the waiter is at their table. “Can I take these for you?” He asks, gesturing to the plates. Louis lets out an exasperated sigh, nodding. “And will you be wanting the cheque?” 

“Yes, please.” Harry responds, handing the waiter his plate.

“It’ll be right with you, sirs.” The waiter says, carrying their empty plates away.

There’s a heavy cloud of silence that descends upon on them as the waiter leaves, Louis fiddling with the frayed edge of the table cloth and Harry playing with his rings. It doesn’t seem like a lot, but this is the first time either of them has addressed the glaringly obvious distance between them. Both of them blindingly aware, neither wanting to bring attention to it. Louis feels all but exhausted, like he’s just run a marathon. His heart is pounding in his chest, replaying the _“I miss you a lot, you know.”_ falling from Harry’s lips. His muscles are practically twitching with the urge to fling himself over to Harry, wrap him in a hug and bury his nose into his hair, soft and warm.

He glances at Harry, he’s got his bottom lip pulled in between his teeth, eyes focused on his long fingers. “I’m writing with Jamie and Julian tomorrow,” Louis says, shattering the silence. Harry looks up at him, eyes wide. “I’ve got nothing on the day after though, you can come over to mine if you want. We can like, cook or something. Like old times. I mean, only if you’re not busy, obviously.” Louis rambles, wanting to get it all out in one before he loses momentum. 

Harry blinks back at him, tucking his hair behind his ear. “I’d like that.”

“Sorted, then.” Louis smiles wide, nodding his head and laughing softly, almost in disbelief. “Bring your own ingredients though, I’m lacking in the fresh produce department.”

Harry’s grinning back at him, looking up from under his eyelashes. “Will do.”

* 

They split the bill, leaving a more than generous tip for the waiter. Harry scribbles ‘ _thank you for the great service’_ on a napkin with a biro he found in his pocket and leaves it on the table. They walk out of the restaurant, into the car park together. Their cars are the only two there, at opposite ends of car park. As they approach Louis’, he notices Harry slowing his pace.

“Um,” Harry starts, “Should I text you, about Friday? I don't have your LA address.”

“Yeah, of course. I’ll text it to you, we’ll decide on a time as well yeah?” Louis says, feeling for his keys in his pocket.

“Yeah, great.” Harry smiles, mimicking Louis’ actions and taking out his own keys. 

Their pace is almost standstill by the time they reach Louis’ car, nothing really left to do but say goodbye. “Uh, I’ll see you Friday then I guess?” Louis offers, the two of them stood awkwardly in front of Louis’ Range Rover, arms swinging at their sides.

“Yup.” Harry nods, “Friday.”

Louis swipes through his fringe with his fingers. “Erm, I had a good time today. Great choice on the venue. Fantastic pizza. Thanks.”

Harry grins, dimples appearing in his cheeks. He looks down to meet Louis’ eye. “My pleasure. Thank _you_ for calling me drunk.” He’s about to turn on his heel when he looks back at Louis. “If it’s any consolation, I’m flattered that I was occupying your mind enough to have you drunk call in the first place.”

Louis feels himself blush, looking at the ground and trying to wipe the face splitting smirk off his face. “Yeah, well.” Is all he manages.

“I’ll see you Friday, Lou.” Harry grins back at him, waving over his shoulder and he makes his way over to his Audi.

Louis just waves back, hand feeling heavy on his wrist as he lets himself into his car. _Jesus Christ._


	3. Chapter 3

It feels like it takes Louis an age to drive home from dinner with Harry. By the time he gets himself home, slugging through the rush hour traffic, it’s almost half past five. The car journey had been an endless stream of _HarryHarryHarry._ Non sensical thoughts, muddled and mixed up sentences running through his brain. He’s absolutely itching to talk to Lottie, fingers tapping on the wheel and feet bouncing on the car floor impatiently at every red light he’d hit. 

Now he’s home, he practically sprints to his laptop, opening up Skype. Lottie’s icon shows she’s online, so he clicks her up, typing “I’m ready now if you are?” Within seconds, the screen lights up to an incoming call from her. He lets out a deep breath, fixing his hair in the pixelated image of him on the display.The call connects, and there’s Lottie, face illuminated in contrast to the dark room behind her.

“Hiya!” She sings, waving at him enthusiastically.

“Alright, love?” Louis grins back.

“I’m good.” She responds, adjusting the screen slightly so she’s more in frame. “To what do I owe the pleasure of a spontaneous Skype call from you, then?”

Louis laughs, “Fuck off, I call you all the time.”

“Lies.” She quips back. “You’re lucky, I was meant to go out tonight, but it’s raining so I’ve stayed in.”

“Out?” Louis responds, “It’s a Wednesday, what are you doing out and about on a Wednesday night?”

Lottie rolls her eyes, “It’s student night in town Lou, £1 entry and half price drinks.”

Louis raises his eyebrows, “You’re not even eighteen yet, mate. And you’re not even a proper student. Bloody kids these days.” 

“Like _you_ were any better when you were my age.” She laughs, typing something in another tab. She _is_ right, Louis was such a shit at seventeen. He was at house parties nearly every night, getting absolutely hammered and ending up in completely ridiculous places the next morning, one example that stands out in his mind being actual Doncaster airport. 

“Alright, fair point.” He laughs back.

They talk for a while, Lottie filling him in on all the gossip from back home. Sue from next door is still nicking all their plastic recycling bags from the front garden, Fizzy’s gotten an A* in her English mock, the Co-Op up the road have stopped selling those spicy chicken wraps Lottie loves. It all makes Louis feel so normal, listening to Lottie talk about Doncaster and the people he’s known for as long as he can remember. 

He gets pulled back sharply into reality when Lottie finishes her dramatic monologue about how important the Co-Op wraps are to her and asks him, “So, anyway. What’s the real reason you wanted to Skype at almost 3am in the middle of the week.”

“What? Nothing, no reason.” He quickly responds, scratching at a bit of dirt of his laptop screen.

“Louis. If you’ve made me stay up until three just for a quick chat I’m gonna smack you one next time I see you.”

Louis snorts, raising his palms up to the webcam. “Alright, alright! No need to get violent.” 

Lottie laughs, “Spill the beans.”

He takes a moment to breathe, composing himself and thinking of how to word what he wants to say. “I think I just need some advice to be honest.”

She nods at him, face serious. 

“It’s just…” He begins, looking up at the ceiling, pursing his lips. “Have you ever, like. Lost contact with a friend? Like, you used to be really close, and now you’re just…not?”

Lottie nods slowly, eyebrows furrowed. “Yeah, course. Happens all the time really, doesn't it?”

Louis sighs, rubbing at his neck. “I mean…yeah. But, this is different. It’s not like we’ve had a falling out or an argument. Or that we don’t like each other anymore…” 

“Right…” Lottie draws out, willing him to go on.

“Well, how do you… fix that? How do you go back to the way things used to be with someone? Before everything got weird and different and-“

“Louis.” Lottie cuts him off. “Is this…” She pauses. “Is this about Harry?”

Louis feels like the wind has been punched out of him, flinching when Harry’s name leaves Lottie’s mouth. They’re both silent for a long moment before Louis responds, “Yeah.”

He sees Lottie’s face change, lips pressed together and eyes concerned. “I figured. What brought this on all of a sudden?” She asks, sitting further back in her chair.

Louis sighs heavily. “I dunno, we went for dinner earlier, just me and him.”

“Really?” Lottie asks, eyes wide. “How was it?”

Louis bites his lip. “It was…it was good. I’m seeing him again on Friday, he’s coming over to mine.”

“Are you serious?” There’s a grin creeping across her face as he nods. “Well why are you askin’ me for advice then? You seem to have it all sorted out fine.”

“I don’t know. It’s just like, you know how it used to be between me and him, Lotts.” He sighs, scratching at his jawline. “Like, we’ve never exactly been… _normal_ have we, me and Harry?”

Louis watches Lottie visibly exhale a deep breath at that, eyes closing momentarily. When she opens them again, she’s smiling. “You have no idea how glad I am that you just said that.”

Louis furrows his brows, “What d’you mean?”

Lottie’s shaking her head, “That you and Harry aren’t _normal._ It’s been like this, this weird taboo thing, Louis. All of us notice it, me, Fizzy, mum, Dan, even Phoebe and Daisy have picked up on it. And Harry’s mum and Gemma too.”

Louis can feel his pulse quicken, nostrils flaring. He runs a hand through his hair, flattening his fringe. “What so you all just sit around having meetings about me and Harry then?” He snaps, feeling his cheeks flush.

“Lou,” Lottie sighs, “It’s not like that.”

“What is it like then?” 

Louis watches Lottie chew her thumbnail, searching for the right words. “You know how close we all are, us and Harry’s family. Anne and mum are best friends, the two of you are bound to come up in conversation.” When he doesn’t speak, Lottie continues. “There’s this _thing_ with you and Harry, like you _aren’t_ normal. You’ve never been normal, there’s a reason your management shit themselves trying to keep the two of you apart.”

Louis scoffs at that, rubbing his temples. 

“But you never want to talk about it, either of you.” She continues, “And all of us feel so awkward mentioning it, because it’s not really got anything to do with us. Mum’s always telling me to just leave you be, that you’ll figure it out in your own time. And Lou, I’ve felt like a complete _freak_ because I _see_ it. I see what some of those fans say about you, how you look at each other and act around each other. It’s not normal, Lou.” 

It feels like the world around him is completely still, like nothing is existing outside of this bubble with him and Lottie and his laptop screen. He’s breathing hard, Lottie is too, he can hear it. She’s blinking fast, biting her lip. She’d rushed out that last sentence like it’d been desperate to escape from her lips. “How do we look at each other?” He all but whispers, voice thin and shaky. 

Lottie shrugs, sighing. “Like, I don’t know, Lou. You go all… _soft_ when you look at him sometimes, like your face completely changes. And he does the same, you must’ve seen it. He’s got permanent dimples whenever you’re around. Still now.”

Louis brings his hand up, rubbing at his face, hiding his features. 

"And you got _jealous_ and all like…sad when Harry had girlfriends.”

“He’s never had a proper girlfriend.” Louis cant help but interject.

“ _See?_ ” Lottie exasperates. “Even the mention of it gets you all antsy.”

Louis shuts his eyes, head resting in his hands as he takes it all in. She’s fucking right, about everything. He’s been so fucking _blind._

“So, you think I’m into Harry?” It feels fucking liberating to say it. It feels like a hundred kilo weight off his shoulders, a chain untied from around his ankles. _You think I’m into Harry._

“Lou-“ She starts, voice like she’s about to apologise.

“Lottie, just say. Do you think that?” Louis interrupts her. Harry’s voice is ringing in his ears, _“I just want to be honest.”_

“Yeah.” She says, finally. “Yeah, I do.”

It’s dead quiet, both of them breathing deeply, staring at themselves on the screen. Louis’ whole body feels pixelated and fuzzy, just like his image looks on the laptop. “Louis. I’m sorry.” Lottie says now, quiet and hushed.

Louis shakes his head at her, fast. “Don’t be. I…I really need to hear that from someone.”

Lottie sniffs, bringing her hand up quick to wipe at her eyes. “You know I’d support you, like, no matter what? When I said you weren’t normal I didn’t mean, _bad_ , not normal. Just not normal for two friends.”

Louis finds himself wiping at his own eyes, letting out a breathy laugh. “I know, Lotts. And I’m sorry I never talked to you about this. M’sorta just figuring it out meself to be honest.”

“I didn’t mean to make you upset, or like, feel guilty or anything. It must be so shit for you.” She says, chewing at her sleeve.

“Don’t be silly, s’just me being a knob. You’ve not done anything wrong.”

They both smile at each other through the webcam, eyes all watery and cheeks red.

“So,” Lottie says, taking a deep breath. “What are you gonna do about it?”

Louis raises his eyebrows, rubbing at his forehead. “Fuck knows.”

She laughs, dabbing under her eyes. “If it helps at all, when I’ve come on tour with you lot, I’ve caught Harry staring at your arse on multiple occasions.”

Louis scoffs, feeling his cheeks burn up a bit at the remark. “Shut up.” He groans, smile creeping out from his hand thats covering his face.

Lottie sticks her tongue out at him through the webcam. “I’m gonna have to get going now.” She yawns, “It’s so late.”

“Shit yeah, it is as well.” Louis responds, checking the time on his laptop. “Thanks for like, being cool about all this shit.”

“My pleasure, thanks for coming to me with it.”

“I don't think there’s a group of people in the world better at advice than teenage girls.” Louis says, completely sincere. 

Lottie just nods knowingly. “That is true. Make sure you like, text or call me if anything happens. Keep me updated. I want an essay on what happens Friday.”

Louis laughs, “Will do.”

“Good. Night dickhead, love you.”

“Love you two, twat. And don’t mention any of this to mum ok? I wanna talk to her about it first.”

“My lips are sealed.” Lottie says, miming locking her mouth then throwing away the key. “Night, Louis.”

“Night, Lottie.”

And just like that, the call ends and Louis is left staring at his own reflection in the screen. He doesn’t move, doesn’t feel able to. He feels tears prickling in the corners of his eyes, his nostrils flaring and throat constricting. Part of him feels sick, just absolutely overwhelmed and completely terrified. He’s so fucking scared. A tear runs its way down Louis cheek, falling from his face and splashing on the keyboard of his laptop. That’s all it takes to get him going. Before he knows it, he’s in floods. Streams of salty tears running down his face, chest heaving. He sobs, hands curled into his hair.

He’s been so fucking _stupid._ He’s been an _idiot._ How could he not _see?!_ He’s spent almost five years making excuses for himself and for his feelings. Five years pretending that whatever thing he has going on with Harry doesn’t mean anything. Five years of making Harry believe the same thing. And god, that might be the worst part of all. He shuts the lid of his laptop screen, hands shaking and breath coming out hiccupy. He lets himself fall back onto his bed, turning over and burying his face in the pillows, tears soaking the soft cotton. 

He’s replaying Lottie’s words in his head, _“You got jealous and all like…sad when Harry had girlfriends.”_ She’s right, completely correct. He remembers one time, back in 2013 in New York, Harry had befriended some girl, Paige, that Louis absolutely could not stand. She was gorgeous, blonde with big brown eyes and plush lips. And she was all over Harry. 

Harry’d given her and her friends VIP passes, the whole group of them coming backstage after the show, drinking and being loud. Louis had sulked in the corner, watching them over the rim of his red cup. They’d all surrounded Harry, dancing with him and laughing. Complimenting him on his clothes, his hair, his voice, his stage presence. Louis had scrunched the cup in his hand when he’d watched Harry drape his arm over Paige’s shoulder, tucking her in close. Louis could not wait for the band to leave New York, for Harry to leave New York. Couldn’t wait for Paige and her friends to be a thing of the past, just another forgotten acquaintance in a far away state.

He’d gotten his wish, the tour had continued rolling across America, lonely interstates and bustling highways becoming their home. There was no mention of Paige, Harry hadn’t so much as uttered her name once around Louis. Honestly, it hadn’t crossed Louis’ mind since. That was until September came around. 

The tour was in Australia, and things were good. The sun and the sea having a positive effect on all of the boys.

Louis remembers being in some hotel room, stretched out on the clean white sheets, glass door to the balcony open so the warm breeze could filter in. He’d been on Twitter, just scrolling through his mentions when he’d seen it. He’d felt his breath catch in his throat, a sick twinge in his stomach, frozen still. With unsteady fingers he’d opened the image to it’s full size, willing himself to find some alternate explanation for what he was looking at. It was Harry, sat on the floor, face obstructed by some hanging sheets. It was definitely him though, ‘Things I Can’t’ tattoo clearly visible. There, on top of him, _straddling_ him, was Paige. Her face was covered too, leaning in close to Harry’s. They could have easily been kissing, the proximity was more than close enough. He felt sick. Absolutely sick to his stomach. More than anything though, he felt a overpowering surge of wanting to protect Harry, swallowing him whole. Had Harry seen this? Did Harry know this picture was out there? Did he know it’d even been taken?

He’d locked his phone, chucking it down on the bed. The image was still burnt into his mind though. Her hands on Harry’s shoulders. Her legs draped over Harry’s, bracketing him. Their faces were covered but Louis’ mind conjured up it’s own images of their lips pressed together. He didn’t want to look at Harry, didn’t want to share a stage with him later and look at all the places she’d touched. It wasn’t just that photo, it was the implications of it. If this much was captured in a quick snapshot, what had happened after the shutter had snapped? Had they gone back to Harry’s room? Had they shared a bed together, slept curled up in each other? Did Harry wrap himself around her, stroking up and down her back, the way Louis had once thought was reserved only for him?

Louis couldn’t think, he couldn’t think about anything that wasn't Harry. He needed to get out of that hotel room, out of the city, out of the fucking _country._ He needed a clear head, some distraction to stop him thinking.

It had been an overreaction, an unnecessarily grand gesture, but he’d booked himself a flight to Fiji. They had a short break in between shows, so it wasn’t like he was missing anything important. He’d spent all but two days there, drinking and smoking the whole time. Head a mess. He doesn't remember anything about Fiji, it’s like a blank slate in his memory, supposes that was the idea.

When he’d flown back to tour, the other boys had all been quiet. Skirting around him and doing their best to pretend that he’d never left in the first place. Harry hadn’t said a word, he was subdued both on stage and off. Where he was usually bouncing around the holding areas, riling everyone up, he’d sit quietly on his phone, pensive. He hasn't spoken about it since, not with Harry or any of the other boys. He’s thinks about what Lottie had said earlier, _“It’s been like this, this weird taboo thing.”_ Suddenly, he finds himself wondering if thats how it’s been with everyone. If the boys see it too. They must do. They spend practically every waking moment with each other, if Lottie can tell from halfway across the globe, it must be staring the boys straight in the face.

He feels incredibly self conscious, and just _embarrassed._ They’re all meant to be best friends, to tell each other everything, know each other inside and out. Him and Harry have probably been an endless source of frustration for the rest of the band, will they, wont they? He wonders if the other boys talk to each other about it, if they worry about him and Harry. If they’ve ever thought about bringing it up to them. There’s a part of him that wishes one of them had, that someone would have just sat down with him and said _“Hey, you sort have a thing for Harry, don’t you?”_ But he realises people have been saying that, they’ve been saying it for years. People he knows and people he doesn’t. His own management team have been bending over backwards to separate him and Harry for that exact reason, and he’d just rolled his eyes at them, rolled his eyes at Harry. 

He lies there, too drained from crying to change out of his tight jeans and t-shirt. He pulls himself under the duvet, wrapping it around his body, safe and warm. It cant even be 8pm yet but all he wants to do is fall asleep. His eyes sting, heavy and drooping, it feels like relief when he closes them. 

He is fucking _terrified,_ he’s so scared and unsure and confused. Angry and completely relieved at the same time. For all the muddiness and fog in his head, there is one thing that tonight has made clear. And that’s Harry. He wants Harry, always has. He wants to be with Harry, for Harry to be his and nobody else’s. But Jesus _Christ,_ does he wish he could have realised it five years earlier.

*

It’s overcast and threatening to rain, but Louis, Julian and Jamie still choose to sit outside. “It helps get the creative juices flowing, being at one with nature. Everything sounds better.” Julian had informed them, pretentious tone only slightly joking. 

They’re all sat around a wooden picnic table Jamie has somehow managed to acquire in his back garden. There’s a guitar and there’s wine and wispy clouds of smoke from the cigarettes they’ve shared spill above them. It’s a nice vibe, relaxed and easy. They’re trying to come up with something relatively slow paced, drowsy almost. They always start this way, heading into a song with no real concept, just bouncing ideas back and forth between each other. 

“I’ve had this melody in my head for like, the past week. It’s just the bones of it, but I think it could end up as something pretty cool.” Jamie tells them, picking up the acoustic guitar and resting it in his lap. He plays without a pick, just plucking gently at the strings with the pads of his fingers. It’s a simple, three chord tune, but it just sounds perfect. Maybe Julian is right, maybe being outdoors does make everything sound better. Either way, Louis finds himself nodding in time, mesmerised by the clean sound leaving the instrument. 

When Jamie finishes, looking at the two of them for critique, Louis grins at him. “Love it.”

Jamie chuckles at him, “It’s not really much to go off, but I was thinking that kind of vibe?”

Louis nods back, “I actually, sorta thought up some lyrics on the way here. Think they’d fit quite well with that style, like all moody.” He’d been thinking about them all night actually, and all morning when he’d woken up. He’d found that putting his thoughts into lyrics was a good way of dealing with them. A good way of getting them out and putting them into some semblance of order. 

“Oooh, look at you Mr. Songwriter extraordinaire!” Julian teases, patting him on the back. “Let’s here ‘em.”

Louis coughs, sweeping his fringe. He takes his phone out from his pocket and opens up a note where he’d saved the lyrics. “Erm, okay well, they’re not really, finished or anything, but.” He mumbles, fiddling with a lose bolt on the wooden table. He clears his throat again. “So, the first bit sorta goes _‘Here’s to words that tell the truth, when it’s easier to lie. Here’s to staring into the sun, when you used to close your eyes.’”_ He looks up, swiping a hand through his hair.

Julian and Jamie are practically beaming back at him, eyes lit up. “That’s sick.” Julian utters, Jamie nodding at his remark. 

“What’s the next bit?” Jamie asks eagerly.

“Uh, well these lines I think, would probably be in the bridge.” He focuses back on his phone, reading from the screen. “Um, _‘And maybe for the first time you'll get the best of me, the part that isn't broken like before, the man I'm not afraid of anymore.’”_

He swallows, dragging his eyes up from his phone screen to meet Jamie and Julian’s. They’re both looking at him, eyes wide and smiling.

“Yo, those are fuckin’ awesome. Really, they’re solid, Louis.” Julian blurts out, opening up his MacBook and pulling up a word document. “Read ‘em again so I can save them to my drive.” Louis blushes a little, repeating the lyrics once more.

It always feels a bit embarrassing to read what you’ve written to somebody else, never sounding as good out loud as it does in your head. He feels vulnerable and exposed, spilling out his thoughts like this. But it also feels invigorating, like a release of sorts. Still, he’s thankful when neither of them probe him for further information on what the lyrics are about, not quite ready to put it all out in the open. They mess around with the song for a little while longer, throwing chords together and clapping out beats. Sometimes it takes days, weeks even just to get started, but this song seems to fall together of it’s own accord.

Before too long, the heavier clouds roll in from the hills and sit low in the sky. They act like a thick blanket, blocking out the harsh rays of the sun but preserving its mellow heat. It’s grey in Jamie’s garden, green grass and foliage muted by the colour of the sky. It should feel bleak and dreary, but the monotone is more comforting than anything, dousing everything in a soft haze. Little rain droplets start to fall, so small and sparse at first that none of them notice. It’s only when they get big enough to make damp patches on Jamie’s paper do any of them realise.

“It’s gonna pour down in a minute.” Louis comments, flipping the hood of his jumper up over his head, eyes on the clouds.

“D’you wanna call it a day?” Julian asks them, “We’ve gotten more than enough done already.”

They both nod back at him, Jamie gathering his things up from the wooden table thats now mottled with raindrops. Julian leads them back around to the front of the house where Louis’ car is parked.

“Hey, Louis?” Julian calls as Louis heads over to his car. Louis turns to look at him, questioning. “Great job today, dude.” He smiles, giving Louis an enthusiastic thumbs up.

Louis beams back, “Thanks man, you too.” 

He gets into his car with a sense of pride spilling out of him. He feels in control, collected and in tune with his emotions. As he pulls out of the drive and onto the highway, he thinks he’d quite like it to last.

*

He’s been driving for a short while, windscreen wipers at the highest speed to wash away the rain. It’s not long before he finds himself stuck in yet another seemingly never ending queue of traffic, red brake lights from the cars in front reflecting in the puddles. And thats when he gets an idea. 

He keeps driving, turning off the highway and into a more residential area. He follows the signs for the nearest shopping complex, one hand tapping a steady rhythm into his thigh. When he reaches a relatively small outlet made up of a few convenience stores and one or two cafes, he pulls into the car park at the far end. If there’s a God, now would be a good time for him to do Louis a favour, as he prays that nobody will recognise him or stop him for a picture. He pulls his hood up over his head, stepping gently out of his car and locking it behind him.

Louis wanders over to the little pharmacy, red neon lights on the sign flickering, one blown out. He keeps his eyes focused on the ground, trying to avoid walking into the puddles that cover the tarmac. When he reaches the automatic door, he pulls his hood down, eyes now staring at linoleum flooring.

He walks like he’s on auto pilot, despite never having set foot in the shop before. The next time he looks up, he’s at the aisle he needs. He surveys the area for a moment, scanning up and down the aisle for anybody that might try and take a sneaky snap of him. There’s nobody near and the shop is quiet, just the sound of tinny pop music playing distantly over the speakers. He swallows, scurrying over to the shelf he can see stocks the product he needs. In an ideal world, he’d have time to ponder over his options, pick the one that suits him best, maybe splash out on something fancy. But this isn’t an ideal world, he’s Louis Tomlinson from One Direction and he’s trying to buy a bottle of lube in some grotty local pharmacy. 

He can hear trolley wheels squeaking close, so he panics and grabs whatever bottle he can get his hands on first. He walks quickly with his head down, hands wrapped tightly around the lube so that it’s hidden from any intrusive eyes. Louis decides that God _is_ real when he spots the empty self service check out, making a bee line for it. He scans the bottle through, probably quicker than any human has ever scanned anything before, shoving it in a plastic bag and taking his receipt. 

There’s a definite spring in his step as he makes his way back to his car. 

*

The 30mph speed limit and endless traffic on the roads is the current bane of Louis’ existence. It feels like he could run home quicker than he could drive there. He’s trying to keep his mind off the lube in the passenger seat, off of what he has planned for himself. It’s easier said than done.

After what feels like a fucking eternity, Louis finally finds himself stumbling in through the front door, toeing his shoes off and pulling off his wet hoodie, draping it over the stair rail. He takes a deep breath, composing himself for a moment. It wont be his first time, not really. He’s tried before, slipped a finger inside whilst he’s tugged at his cock. Soaped himself up in the shower and pushed in as an experiment of sorts. But this is different. Tonight he’s going to take his time. Open himself up properly, get to know his own body. What he likes, what feels good. He slips into the bathroom, turning the dial on the shower and watching the water stream from the head.

As the room starts to fill up with steam from the hot water, he strips off his clothes, leaving them in a pile on the floor. The sticky condensation of the room settles on his skin, enveloping him in a hot sheet of fog. 

When he steps under the stream of water, he can feel his muscles loosen and relax instantly. He ducks his head under, submerging himself for a moment. He closes his eyes and all he can hear is the drumming of water hitting the plastic floor below him, cant feel anything but wet and warm.He moves his head out from under the water, stepping forward and grabbing a bottle of shower gel in the corner. Slowly, he squeezes some into his palms, rubbing them together to get it all suddy. 

It smells like coconut as he trails his hands over his body, rubbing the liquid in and letting the shower wash it off. He spends longer than he usually would, running his hands down his chest, letting his nails scrape just the smallest amount. He can’t resist thumbing over his nipples, pinching them between his fingers, arching his back just so. His breath hitches when he lowers his hands further, trailing over the bumps in his hipbones. 

He fights the urge to touch himself, to take his already half hard cock into his hand and get himself off under the hot stream of water. He’s got bigger plans for tonight. There’s no rush, not anymore, so he takes his time getting himself clean. His breathing is heavy now, anticipation of whats to come. 

When he feels ready, he turns off the water and steps out of the shower. He doesn’t waste much time, drying himself off quickly with a plush white towel and shaking the water out of his hair. As he wanders into his bedroom, he locates the bottle of lube he placed there before getting into the shower. He grabs it in his hand, flopping down onto the kingsize bed. He’s naked, hair still damp and dripping in neat lines down onto his chest. It trickles down as his chest rises as falls with each deep breath. 

He starts himself off slow, tracing down his torso, letting the pads of his fingers ghost over the skin. When he reaches his lower belly, inches away from his length, he just trails his fingers there, raising goosebumps all over. He’s hard now, anticipation from the drive home and touching all over himself in the shower leaving his cock lying slumped against his hipbone. 

To give himself some release and to clear his head a little, he takes himself into his hand, hissing as soon as he makes contact. Eager not to finish things before he’s even started, he paces himself. Drags his hand up and down his shaft, dead slow, almost no pressure or friction. Just enough to get him going. He keeps at it for just a bit longer, ever so lightly rubbing his thumb over the head, a light moan falling from his mouth as he sinks his teeth into his bottom lip.

When he feels himself start to get impatient, hips involuntarily stuttering upwards to meet his hand, he decides he’s ready. It takes a lot of self control to take his hand away, but the promise of whats to come is a good enough persuasion. Taking the lube into one hand, he uncaps the lid and tilts the bottle, letting the stuff leak out slow and dribble over his fingers. He gives it a squeeze, easing the liquid out quicker, coating his hand with it. Shutting the lid and letting the bottle fall back on the bed, he starts to move.

He sidesteps his cock, reaching down past it and under his balls. With his dry hand, he pulls a pillow from above him and slots it under his hips, propping himself up and giving himself better access. He feels the muscles in his stomach jump as he circles his finger around his rim, teasingly slow, just feeling. There’s a jittery feeling in his stomach, hairs raising on his arms and he strokes himself there with the pad of his finger.

Stretching his arm, he starts to push in, exhaling sharply as he feels himself edge past that tight ring of muscle. It burns at first, an unfamiliar stretch. Using his other hand, he wraps his fist around his cock again, working it up and down to take his mind away from the sting. As he feels his body begins accommodate to the intrusion, he works his finger further in, twisting his hips until he’s in to his knuckle. He hums in content, letting his head fall back and his eyes flutter shut.

His thighs twitch as he continues to work over his cock, pace still painstakingly slow. He can feel himself relaxing around his finger, burn becoming more of a sharp heat. With this in mind, he starts to move in and out, rolling his hips and stroking himself gently in time. He lets himself whine all high pitched and needy as he thrusts his finger with more pressure, back arching shamelessly off the bed.

His wrist begins to ache with the awkward angle, so he pulls out completely, altering his position so his hand is reaching under and up rather than down over his pelvis. With the break in his movements, he grabs the lube, slicking up his fingers some more. When he reaches back down, he slips his finger in easily, a soft whine falling from his lips. He takes a second finger, edging it in next to his first. He lets out a high pitched moan as he pushes in, rocking his hips up, taking his hand away from his cock and throwing his arm over his forehead. The stretch feels incredible this time, it still hurts, a sharp burn, but it’s _so good._

“ _Fuck,_ ” he groans as he stretches his fingers inside, filling himself up. He’s sweating now, sticky sheen covering his chest and his forehead. He feels so fucking good, but he wants more, needs it.

He prises his fingers out slowly, biting his lip, before thrusting them both back in, quick. Grabbing at the sheets with his free hand, balling it up in his fist as he arches his back up off the bed. He keeps going like this, building up a steady rhythm with his two fingers, breathing heavy and moaning senselessly.

_God,_ he pictures someone above him, looming down over him. Pushing into him and pressing him down into the mattress, covering his body with theirs. 

Without really thinking about it, he feels himself pushing a third finger in. _Fucking hell,_ he feels so incredibly full, but he still needs more, not quite enough yet. In one quick motion, he curls his fingers inside himself, searching for that spot he knows he cant be far away from. He’s whining high in his throat, squirming in the sheets as he continues to thrust in and out, pace quickening with how much he wants it.

He finds his other hand running down his chest, digging his fingers into the muscles in his stomach that are clenching and flexing like mad. Dragging it back up, he pulls a nipple in between his thumb and forefinger, rolling the nub around and pinching. It makes him more desperate, arching his back up off the sheets into his touch and thrusting his fingers in deeper. All of his muscles stutter at once, a long moan falling from his mouth as he curls his fingers _just right._ It feels like electricity shooting up his spine, pleasure through every inch of his body and he’s definitely never felt that before. He keeps rubbing at that spot, swivelling his hips up trying to get impossibly closer. He whines, breath catching in his throat as he tries and fails to keep his fingers exactly where he wants them. 

The angle is making it impossible, so he flips himself over, lying flat on the bed, face buried in the pillows. He sighs in relief, letting out a long moan as his cock drags across the mattress, friction delicious. He works himself back up to three fingers in no time, body practically drawing them inside. He nearly chokes when he finds his spot again, biting down on the pillow, series of babbles and moans escaping none the less. 

His back arches up off the bed, hips rolling back down in a quick rhythm. It’s maddening, fingers pressed into his prostate, rubbing incessantly, cock dragging up and down against the soft sheets but it’s still not enough. _His mind conjures up images of big hands, long fingers wrapped around his hips, holding him down steady. Wet lips pressed against the back of his neck, teeth biting and tongue flicking. Someone pulling at his hair, tilting his head back to lick into his mouth._

“ _Fuck,_ ” he whines, head going light and limbs quivering as he fucks himself, pressing his cock down against the bed. He keeps going, fast paced now, fingers rocking in and out and rubbing against his spot. He’s hot all over, skin sticking to the sheets and his fringe plastered to his forehead with sweat. His breathing is coming out erratic, chanting little “ _ah’s_ ” over and over. Every drag of his cock against the bed is almost too much, nearly sending him over the edge but not quite getting there.

He can feel that heat building in his stomach, feel his body overriding his brain. He snakes his free hand under himself, taking his cock into it. He fucking _mewls_ at the feeling, toes curling and eyes falling shut as he runs his fist up and down his length in time with the thrusting of his fingers. He wont last much longer, muscles straining at sustaining the position he’s found himself in. So he works himself quicker, relentlessly, chasing that feeling. He can feel tears start to prickle at the corner of his eyes. His thighs are shaking, everything is shaking. He curls his fingers again and again, pushing them as far as they’ll go, not ever wanting the feeling to stop. He’s working over his cock, hand shooting up and down the shaft, no finesse or tactic, just pure _need._

It hits him out of nowhere, all of his muscles tighten impossibly and his hips buck wildly as he squirms in the sheets, trashing around. He feels the heat in his stomach rise up and over his entire body, head light and lost in the pillows. Then there’s this release, all the tension seeping away as he comes with a series of loud moans and shouts, only somewhat stifled by the sheets. Long ropes of come splatter over the bed and over his fist. He keeps fucking himself through it, slowing now though, milking every last second of his orgasm.

When he feels himself come down, he edges his fingers out, wincing slightly as they drag past his oversensitive rim. He starfishes out on the bed, chest still heaving and sticky with sweat. He wipes his fingers on the sheets, too blissed in his post orgasm state to be grossed out. 

A few minutes pass as he lies there, just trying to regulate his breathing again and lose the blurriness in his head. After a while he comes back around, stretching and yawning, turning around onto his back again. 

“Fucking _hell._ ” He says out loud, locating the bottle of lube and throwing it in a draw on his bedside table. He feels all shaky as he steps out of the bed, limbs like jelly underneath him. 

He’s too absolutely exhausted to even think about washing his come covered sheets yet, so he just wanders out onto the landing, still in a bit of a haze. He checks the time on the clock in the hall, it’s not late yet, just gone past nine. Plenty of time to fuck around in front of the sofa with a take away, he thinks. He can clean up the bedroom and take a shower again tomorrow. Shit. Tomorrow. Harry’s coming over tomorrow.

With that in mind, he wanders back into his room, scooping up the sheets and duvet and chucking them into the laundry basket in the corner. Not like Harry’s so much as going to set a foot in his room, but y’know, just in case. 

He picks out fresh sheets from the airing cupboard, draping them over the bed and fluffing the pillows up nicely. He opens up the drawer where he’s thrown the lube, positing it up right and to the front of the drawer. He laughs at himself, shaking his head at his wishful thinking. Like Harry’s going to wander into his room, open up his drawers and find the lube like an invitation. It sounds like a bad porn plot, earlier orgasm clearly messing with his head.

Louis pulls on a pair of joggers and a cotton t-shirt, padding barefoot downstairs into the living room. He orders himself a pizza and submerges himself in a marathon of Lost that’s showing on TV. 

It’s been a good day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> who doesn't love self realisations and anal fingering?  
> 'Here’s to words that tell the truth, when it’s easier to lie. Here’s to staring into the sun, when you used to close your eyes' and 'maybe for the first time you'll get the best of me, the part that isn't broken like before, the man I'm not afraid of anymore' and also the title of the fic are lyrics from the song Untangle Me by The Maine. If you've never heard of them or listened to them then you _really_ should because they are possibly the most underrated band ever and they have some absolutely amazing tracks.  
>  Hope you enjoyed the chapter, chapter four should be up within the next few days :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning for recreational drug usage in this chapter!

Louis wakes up a few minutes before his alarm goes off, rolling over in his bed. Momentarily he wonders why his arse feels a little sore before he remembers the events of last night. One of the more inspired ideas he’s had in a while. He sort of feels like a changed man after his first prostate orgasm, like he should be spreading the word about them. Going from door to door and informing everybody about their wonders, a true man of the people.

He yawns and stretches his muscles, gripping onto the headboard to flex properly. Letting out a deep breath, he shrugs himself out of bed, grabbing a t-shirt from the back of his chair and pulling it over his head. Wandering over to his phone, he takes it off charge and checks his messages. There’s one from Harry, sent 34 minutes ago. Louis rubs his eyes and reads the text.

**’Am I good to come over at 4ish? I would come earlier but last minute meeting came up x’**

Louis is actually thankful for the delay, gives him time to prepare himself. **’4 is fine mate no worries’** He hesitates before adding an ‘x’ and pressing send.

*

When Louis opens the door and gets a look at Harry for the first time with a clear mind, it’s a bit overwhelming. It feels like Louis’ spent his life looking at him through dusty glasses, only now wiping them clean and getting that high definition affect. He’s got on a soft white t-shirt, it’s long sleeved and thin, dark outline of his tattoos visible underneath. It falls loosely over his collar bones, wings of his swallow tattoos just poking out. There’s a loose strand of hair that falls in front of his face, escaping from the messy bun the rest of it is tied up in. 

It’s been a while since he’s seen Harry like this, Louis realises, slight pang in his stomach. These days the most he gets to see of Harry is at work related events. Frolicking around on stage in his colourful shirts and tight jeans, heeled leather boots. Or dressed to the nines on red carpets in some YSL get up, face made up and hair slicked back. Even if its just interviews or meetings, Harry’ll be in some expensive outfit, more often than not sent to him for free by some designer that’s pulled out every stop possible just for Harry to been seen in a piece from their collection. It feels oddly intimate, just to have Harry stood in front of him like this. Hair scooped up messily on his head, old jeans and a t-shirt. No frills.

“Hiya,” Harry greets him, tucking the loose strand of hair back behind his ear and smiling down at Louis.

Louis’ words get stuck in his throat for a second as he locks eyes with Harry. “Hi,” He manages finally, beckoning Harry inside.

“Oh, um.” Harry pauses, looking back at his car. “I brought some stuff with me, like you said. Um, it’s in the boot. Sorta need another pair of arms to carry it in.” He says, gesturing to his car parked in the drive.

Louis raises his eyebrows, smirk spreading across his face. “What sorta stuff?”

“Like, ingredients. I came prepared.” 

Part of Louis feels like he should be offended at the fact that Harry actually thinks Louis’ house is so lacking in nutritional produce that he has to bring his own, but there’s a bigger part that’s just ridiculously endeared by the whole situation. “You would.” Louis rolls his eyes, quirking one side of his mouth up.

They both make their way to Harry’s car, Louis tiptoeing over in his socks, cringing at the feeling of the wet gravel from last nights rain under his feet. For a moment, he considers taking a running jump at Harry and clinging onto his back, piggybacking over the wet floor. Louis’ has always had an aversion to shoes and a particular interest in being carried places, it used to work well in his favour when it came to Harry. Their contrasting frames and build meant that Harry could easily scoop Louis up and carry him about with ease, something Louis would never admit to absolutely loving. 

Louis would always get sleepy and soft after long, late night car journeys back from the studio. He’d rest his head on the car window as they drove back to the flat, kicking his shoes off and tucking his feet under himself, letting his eyes fall shut. He remembers countless times where Harry would ever so gently tap him awake as the car came to a stop outside, whispering “We’re home.” Harry would pick up Louis shoes and turn his back to the car door, motioning for Louis to jump up so he could carry him inside.

“You’ve got a bad back. Don’t wanna hurt you.” He’d protest, placing his hands on Harry’s shoulders.

“You won’t hurt me, you’re five foot nothing and weigh roughly as much as a sack of feathers.” Harry’d said, squatting down so Louis could wrap his legs around his waist and hoist himself up. Harry would carry him all the way back inside and up the stairs, dropping him in bed and then wandering back up with a cup of tea and toast for him a few minutes later.

Now, he just does his best to avoid the puddles, waddling across the drive on tiptoes as he watches Harry lead the way in front. Harry pulls the boot open, several weighty plastic bags inside, full to the brim with an array of ingredients. 

Louis comes up behind him, one hand reaching up to rest against the open boot lid, eyebrows raised. “Jesus.”

“Might have gone a bit over the top.” Harry mumbles, grabbing one of the bags. “Wasn’t sure what to bring so I just sort of…brought everything.”

Louis giggles, “S’alright, let’s get ‘em inside.” He says, picking up a bag and stumbling a little bit under the weight.

Once they’ve got everything in from the car and loaded into Louis’ kitchen, they’re both slightly unsure of what to do with themselves. Louis cant help but feel out of his depth, heart beating a touch faster than normal at the sight of Harry stumbling around his kitchen, the thought of having him all to himself for the entire day a lot to take in. It’s ridiculous because it’s _just Harry,_ the same Harry he’s always been. It’s Louis that’s different. It’s Louis that finds himself biting his lip when Harry stretches to reach the top of the cupboard, shirt hitching up and exposing his toned stomach. It’s Louis that finds himself mesmerised by the way Harry’s long fingers wrap around the door handle, squeezing tight. It’s Louis that finds his eyes wandering down to the plush pinkness of Harry’s lips when he speaks, studying the way they press together and fall apart.

But then again, maybe Louis isn’t different at all. Not if he really thinks about it. He’s found himself fascinated by Harry for as long as he can remember. Always touching, always wanting to touch. Always wanting to be that tiny bit closer, caught up in him. It had always been easy to explain away though, Harry had that effect on everyone, everyone wanted a piece of Harry. There had been countless interviews where he’d been asked who he’d date in the band if he was a girl, and Harry’s name had always effortlessly rolled off his tongue. “I’d pick Harry because he’s really charming.” Or “I’d date Harry, everybody loves Harry.” Never having to think about why.

Louis is brought back to the situation at hand with the sound of a heavy plastic thud hitting the kitchen tile. He whips his head around to look over at Harry who’s stood at the other end of the kitchen island, hands up in mid air, empty space between them previously occupied by whatever has just fallen on the floor.

“Oops.” Harry says slowly, bending down to pick it back up. Louis’ eyes widen when Harry comes up, a large tupperware container in his hands, full of a particularly suspicious looking green substance.

“Is that-“ Louis begins, raising an eyebrow. Harry quirks a cheeky smile back at him, cheeks dimpling, before pushing the container over for Louis to inspect. He takes it, opening the lid just a crack. He’s hit with an overpowering scent, that familiar, earthy smell of bud. Louis shakes his head, laughing affectionately. “You bloody stoner.”

“Hey, when in California…” Harry giggles, shrugging his shoulders.

“There must be at least forty quids worth in this, this like a house warming gift or something?” Louis laughs, holding the stuff up and getting a proper look.

“Thought it might spice up the baking a bit.” Harry explains, emptying out the rest of his ingredients. “Be proper cliche and make weed brownies. I mean, only if you want to, obviously. We can just make like, weed free brownies. We don’t even have to make brownies, it’s really up to you. I’ve got all sorts of-“

“-Harry.” Louis cuts him off, popping the lid back on the tupperware. “I would love to make weed brownies with you.”

If Harry goes a bit red at that, Louis pretends not to notice.

*

Louis has never actually prepared more than a sandwich or a Pot Noodle in the kitchen, having only been renting it out for a week or so, so he feels like he has an excuse to not have a fucking clue how anything works in there.

“How do you not know if you have a whisk?” Harry asks, exasperatedly opening draws and cupboards in search of one.

“I don’t know!” Louis squawks, “It’s not exactly an every day item.”

“But what if you want to make an omelette or a sauce or beat eggs or something?” 

Louis blinks back at him, “There’s this thing called a supermarket, wonderful place with a ready meal section.”

Harry shakes his head at him, eyes wide in mock anguish. “Jamie Oliver would be ashamed.”

“Never liked him anyway, he got rid of turkey dinosaurs at my primary.” Louis retorts.

Harry laughs back, hoisting himself up on the counter with one arm, stretching up to reach the top of the cupboard. Louis swallows sharply, pulling his eyes away from how Harry’s arm muscles bulge with the effort of holding himself up. “Found one!” Harry calls, victory in his voice. “It’s right at the back of your top cupboard. Can’t quite reach though.” He says, putting both his feet back on the floor.

Louis wanders over, arms folded across his chest. “Don’t look at me, if you can’t reach I haven’t got a chance.”

He notices Harry’s eyes drag up his body, mouth open and breathing a little heavy from straining his muscles. When their eyes meet Harry snaps his mouth shut and darts his eyes back over to the cupboard. “Um, ok. True. D’you mind if I climb up onto the counter to grab it?” Harry says quickly, eyeing up the area.

“Go for it.” Louis nods, heading back over to the kitchen island. He rifles through bags with no real purpose other than to give his eyes something to do that doesn’t involve staring at Harry folding himself up then stretching himself out to reach the fucking whisk. When he hears the sound of Harry’s sock clad feet hit the floor, he turns back to look. Harry’s stood with the whisk in one hand, holding it up over his head like a trophy. Louis rolls his eyes and laughs, beckoning Harry and the whisk over.

He stands over a big glass bowl, containing eggs, sugar and baking powder that they’d put in earlier before realising they were missing a whisk. “Shall I start whisking or you?” Louis asks him, as Harry stands next to him, pressing his hip against his. For a moment, Harry is quiet. Louis wonders if he’s recalling memories. Back when they were living together it was always Harry that insisted on cooking, on cleaning, making the beds, no matter how much Louis protested against it or tried to even out the work load. Harry never asked for anything in return either, never held it against Louis or made him feel guilty about it. It was like he actually enjoyed the domesticity of it, liked doing things for Louis. 

“Hm.” Harry says, swirling the whisk around between his fingers. “I can do this if you want to start grinding the bud up. I’ve got a good whisking hand.”

Louis smirks at him. “Don’t suppose you brought a grinder?”

Harry purses his lips. “Might have forgotten that part.” He pouts, flicking the whisk around and catching it between his fingers, showing off.

Louis tuts playfully, turning on his heel out of the kitchen to retrieve his own grinder lying around somewhere in his room. On his way out he hears the distinct sound of the whisk clattering to the floor and a flustered “shit” leave Harry’s lips.

It takes him what feels like an age to find a damn grinder, rifling through every drawer and suitcase he can find. He eventually plucks one out of a rucksack shoved in the bottom of a wardrobe. It’s an embarrassingly uncool novelty one in the shape of a football, one of Oli’s more inspired birthday gifts. He sighs, grabbing it in his hand and chucking the rucksack back in the wardrobe. He practically runs down the stairs, eager to get back to Harry as soon as possible. It’s weird, he’s not so much as laid a finger on Harry for months and managed alright, but the slight brush of their hips knocking together in the kitchen has got him roped right back in.

When he gets back to the kitchen he all but freezes in mid air, choking on nothing. Harry’s stood in the corner, one hand on his hip, other in his mouth. There’s a bowl of melted chocolate on the counter in front of him and Harry’s fucking _sucking it off his fingers._ Louis’ frozen still as Harry hollows his cheeks around two fingers, slowly dragging them out of his shiny pink lips. There’s a drop of the stuff on the corner of his mouth, and Louis watches as he presses it with the pad of his thumb before sucking it past his lips. _Jesus Christ._

“Um.” Louis coughs, making his way into the kitchen, cheeks all flushed and hot. “Found me grinder.” He says, holding it up.

Harry’s eyes dart up, smile spreading over his face. Fucking dimples. “That’s cute.”

Louis feels his cheeks flush. “Thanks.” He all but squeaks, fiddling with his hair. “Oli got me it.”

Harry smirks back at him. “Whisking’s done, I melted this chocolate for the mixture too.”

Louis nods once, eyebrows raised, making his way over. It takes absolutely every ounce of self control he has to not bound over there and just like, squeeze Harry’s stupid lips, or something.

“Try some.” Harry suggests, pushing the bowl towards Louis. “S’really good.”

 _I bet it is,_ Louis thinks. “Erm, okay.” Is what he says, leaning in a bit closer to Harry, hips knocking again. Louis swallows, mouth dry. He looks at Harry through the corner of his eye, he’s watching him, nodding in encouragement. “Uh,” He stammers, extending one finger and dipping it into the sticky goo. He can feel the heat of Harry’s stare as he takes it back out towards his mouth, long string of chocolate dripping off his finger. He bites his lip before ducking his head down and poking out his tongue, catching the liquid before bringing the tip of his finger to his mouth. Ever so softly he sucks the remaining chocolate from the pad of his finger, flicking his tongue over his lips to catch any he missed.

Harry clears his throat next to him, “Uh…was, was that-“

“Tastes really good yeah, yeah. Love it. Nice one.” Louis interrupts, flattening his fringe against his forehead. 

Harry nods back at him, smoothing his t-shirt down. “Ah, good. D’ya wanna start grindin’?”

For a second Louis’ mind short circuits and he completely forgets the context of the word ‘grinding’ leaving Harry’s lips. “Grinding! Yeah, shit. I’ll get on it now.” He babbles, dashing over to the Tupperware box with the weed in it. Getting stoned in this state is either going to be a really great idea or a really fucking awful one, only one way to find out.

They talk lazily for a while as Louis methodically grinds up the weed into a thin powder, Harry mixing all their ingredients together in a bowl. It feels good, refreshing almost to be able to just talk to Harry, just the two of them alone for once. No outside distractions or regulations. Falling back into sync with each other. It’s almost like meeting again for the first time, Louis remembering how easy it had been to click with Harry the moment they met. How all the other boys had to try to get to know each other, but for Harry and Louis, it’d felt like they already did. He remembers launching himself into Harry’s arms when they’d been put together, just running across the stage and leaping into him. How Harry had caught him without stumbling and wrapped his arms around his waist like it was nothing. There’s a part of him that wonders what Harry would do if he ran across the kitchen to him now, flinging himself around him. He’s almost sure Harry would catch him again, but there’s a fear that’s stopping him from finding out.

“This bits all finished.” Harry says, tapping a wooden spoon on the side of the glass bowl he’s stirring the ingredients in. “Just gotta make the oil and shove it all together.”

“Nice,” Louis drawls out, emptying the last of the weed out of the grinder and onto a plastic tray. “I can’t believe you’re a pot brownie connoisseur.” 

Harry giggles, coming to stand next to Louis, examining the ground up herb. “Well, I did used to be a baker.”

Louis groans, rolling his eyes playfully. “A Saturday job behind the tills at Greggs doesn’t make you a baker.”

“Hey, I did not work at _Greggs._ I’ll have you know I was employed by one of the most up-market bakeries in Cheshire.”

“Well, I’m sure they’ll be absolutely chuffed to know you’re using your knowledge of baked goods to prepare a wholesome batch of pot brownies.” 

Harry lets out an over exaggerated laugh, covering his mouth with his hand. “You’re mean.” He says, shoving Louis’ shoulder lightly with an outstretched palm.

“Oi, watch it. No pushing allowed in my kitchen. I take health and safety _very_ seriously.” 

Harry giggles again, ducking his head and dimpling. “I’ll grab you the frying pan.” Louis watches him as he saunters off across the kitchen to locate said pan. He studies the way Harry’s hips sway as he walks, how long his strides are and the way he keeps his wrists held up. How his bun jiggles behind him, bobbing up and down with the rhythm of his walk, loose strands falling down against the long column of his neck. Louis tears his gaze away from Harry and ducks down to the storage unit below him to grab a plastic bottle of cooking oil. 

“Does it matter what kind of oil?” He calls over to Harry.

“Anything but olive is fine.” He replies, walking over with the frying pan.

Louis checks the label, it’s vegetable. “Cool.”

Harry holds the pan out steadily as Louis tips the tray of bud into it, scooping it off with the side of his hand. “Now just pour the oil over it, just like a thin covering.” Harry instructs him, picking up the handle of the pan and shaking it around so the weed spreads out evenly. Louis takes the instruction, pouring the oil as carefully as he can. “There you go.” Harry says, “That’s great.”

Louis smiles up at him, keening at the praise. “Now what?”

“Um, we shove that on the burner for a bit. Like, a couple of hours probably, to like, extract the THC or something. Stir every half hour or so. Then, just add it to the mixture and bake ‘em.”

Louis nods, turning on the hob. “Sorted. We can smoke the rest of the bud if you want. Maybe watch a film or something while we wait?”

Louis watches Harry’s grin creep across his face, dimples forming. “I’d love that.”

*

It’s getting dark out now, the sun setting outside, soaking Louis’ living room in dusty reds and glowing yellows as the two of them sit on opposite ends of the sofa, ankles intertwined. They’d rolled a good few shoddy joints with the last of the weed and some tobacco Louis’d found in one of his suitcases, smoking them sat on Louis’ porch looking out over the garden. The high was really starting to set in now.

Louis feels floaty and so light, like he’s a balloon and Harry’s ankle draped over his is the only thing grounding him and stopping him from rising up and floating away. It feels like all of his energy is focused on that one place where Harry’s touching him, like it’s a hot ball of light in an otherwise dark room. The bright glare from the television flickers across the walls, illuminating Harry’s face in short intervals. Louis studies the way the shadows spill across Harry’s face, the sharp jut in his jawline and the soft roundness of his cheekbones. He tilts his head to one side, feeling the room move around him as he focuses his attention on Harry’s lips. They’re parted slightly, bottom lip puffy and wet with saliva, shining in the fluorescent light. 

The sound from the TV feels so loud, loud enough that Louis can feel the vibrations in his skin. It’s like he cant make out exactly what’s being said though, it’s just a constant static filling up the empty space around him. He closes his eyes for a moment, feels cocooned in white noise and Harry.

When he opens them again, he studies the expression on Harry’s face. He’s got his forehead crinkled, eyebrows drawn together and nostrils flared, eyes focused on the television screen. Louis runs this through his brain, instructing his own eyes to follow the path of Harry’s. When they get there, he’s met with the sight of a man and a woman, sprawled over a bed. He raises his eyebrows as he watches the man pull his shirt over his head and throw it to the side, ducking back down to do the same to the woman. She’s arching up to kiss him, running her hands down his back as he mouths at her neck. Louis blinks steadily, clearing his throat as the couple on the TV move together, languid motions and heavy curls of hips.

Louis hears Harry exhale heavily as the woman moans something Louis can’t make out, winding her hands through the mans hair. Louis swallows, shifting his weight on the sofa, keeping his ankle pressed to Harry’s.

“Do you ever get sick of it?” Harry’s voice breaks through the static cloud of noise from the TV, clearer than anything, although it mustn’t have been much more than a whisper.

Louis blinks a few times, keeping his eyes on the man and woman rolling around on top of each other. “Sick of what?” He asks, although he can’t hear his own voice, isn’t even sure if it came out.

“This.” Harry slurs, hand motioning towards the screen. “Sick of this. Like, it’s so boring, isn’t it? Same old. A man fucking a woman. S’all you ever see on these programmes.” _A man fucking a woman. Same old._ Louis’ chest feels tight. He keeps his eyes on the TV, watching in a daze as the two people start to rock back and forth together, mouths attached. “They’d never show you, like… something else.” Harry continues, eyes on the television. The mans back muscles are coated in sweat now as the pace quickens, the woman’s voice crying out. “Like, a man.” Harry states. “A man fucking a man.”

Louis feels his breath catch in his throat, the place where Harry’s ankle is on his almost burning a hole into his skin. He wants to look over at Harry, wants to replay those words spilling from his gorgeous lips, see it on his face. But he can’t get his head to move. Instead, he opens his mouth. “You’d like that?”

It’s quiet for a moment, cliche love making music from the TV filling the room. “Mm.” Is all that comes from Harry.

Now Louis’ started, he can’t help but keep going. His thoughts are pushing to be front and centre, the weed blurring them all and removing any filter. “Have you ever?”

Harry doesn’t speak at first, just blinking slow. “What’d’you mean?”

“Fucked a man. Or been fucked. Have you ever?” Finally, Louis can get his head to move, he lolls it over, leaning it against the back of the sofa to look at Harry. He can’t make out his expression, it’s too dark in the room now.

He watches Harry’s bun bob up and down as he nods his head. “Yeah.”

“Which was it?” Louis continues almost automatically. “Did you fuck or get fucked?”

There’s a soft laugh in Harry’s voice when he answers. “Both.”

Louis bites his lip, a feeling in his stomach that he cant put a name to. It’s like the biting bitterness of jealousy mixed with a lethal dose of arousal, imagery infiltrating his brain and drowning out his thoughts. Harry’s long, slender fingers opening someone up the way Louis had only been able to do to himself. Harry leaning down over somebody, slamming into them over and over. Harry having that done to him, being worked open and bounced up and down. Falling apart in someone’s lap.

“Have you?” Harry’s low, gravelly tone interrupts his train of thought.

Louis shakes his head. “No.” His voice quiet and breathy. “Thought about it though.” He continues before Harry can say anything. “A lot.”

Harry just hums in the back of his throat, not looking over at Louis. “S’good. You’d like it.”

Louis is practically screaming inside his head, _Would I? Tell me how I’d like it. Tell me how it’d make me feel. Show me._ He just mumbles softly in response though, adjusting his weight so there’s more pressure against Harry’s ankle.

“Shall we check on the brownies?” Harry asks, turning to face him, eyes heavy and pupils blown.

Louis nods at him, head feeling like a dead weight on his shoulders. “Go ahead, won’t be a second.” He follows Harry with his eyes as he leaves the living room, watching every move his body makes. When Harry’s out of his eye sight, he takes a deep exhale, shutting his eyes and letting his head fall back.

There’s actually a moment where he’s convinced the past few minutes were just a weed induced hallucination. He can hear Harry’s words clear as day in his head, playing them over and over on a never ending loop. _A man fucking a man._ He almost looses himself in that, body numb and still planted on the sofa. But then he remembers the situation at hand, how his jeans are starting to feel tight around his crotch, how Harry’s waiting for him in the kitchen. In a lazy movement, he adjusts himself, willing his cock not to thicken up anymore than it already has and create a situation he’s way too stoned to be able to deal with correctly.

“Louis?” He hears Harry’s voice drawls from the kitchen, “Gonna come get these out of the oven with me?”

Louis sinks his teeth into his bottom lip, running the words through his head and formulating an appropriate response. “M’coming.” He responds, body going all floaty when he stands up. He can’t feel himself walking over to Harry, seems like he just blinks his eyes and he’s stood in-front of him. Harry’s opposite the stove, bright red oven gloves on his hands that Louis swears he’s never seen before in his life. "What’s on your hands?” Louis asks, gesturing towards the gloves.

Harry giggles, holding them up and waving. “Oven… gloves. Like, gloves. That you wear when you’re around…ovens.”

Louis splutters, head lolling forward as he laughs. Harry mirrors him, loose curls falling forward from his hair when he shakes his head back and forth. “I’m opening the oven now.” Harry says finally, a bit breathless, leaning over to pull it open and retrieve the tray of brownies.

“That you are.” Louis retorts, mouth actually dampening a little at the smell of chocolate with the tiniest hint of herb that fills the kitchen. “I am fucking starving.” He didn’t realise how desperate he was for something to eat until the scent of the brownies hits his nostrils. His stomach is growling, twisting in hunger. He could probably eat the whole tray in a sitting.

“Fuck, same.” Harry replies, putting the tray on the counter and wielding a sharp knife, cutting up the brownies. “Lets eat now, yeah?”

Louis nods, resisting the very real temptation to reach out and just grab a handful. “We can take them outside, on the porch. Sit out and like, stargaze and shit.” It could possibly be the most cliche activity imaginable, but something about it seems so completely appealing to Louis. It appears to be the same for Harry, judging by the grin on his face.

Louis beckons him out through the patio windows, onto the wood decking. Harry’s still carrying the tray of brownies, oven gloves and all. It’s a still night, only a slight breeze, just enough to rustle the leaves on the trees every so often. The rainstorm yesterday has cleared the sky of clouds, leaving an empty black canvas splattered with the twinkling lights of the stars. It’s not cold, but it’s chilly in the way that being outside in the jet black of the night always feels, regardless of the season. It’s oversized hoodies and shorts, woollen blankets and bare feet.

“Where d’you want to sit?” Comes Harry’s voice, clear as day over the omnipresent sounds of crickets chirping in the undergrowth.

Louis turns to look at him, his figure hugged by the deep darkness of the night, pale light of the moon soaked into his skin. “Next t’you.”

And maybe it’s because he’s stoned. Maybe it’s because his brain is clogged and convoluted, thoughts mismatched and out of place. But in this moment, _next to you,_ seems like the answer to anything the earth could throw at him.

Harry beams, his head is turned to the ground but Louis can see his dimples even from where he’s stood. “Grass or on the sofa?” Harry asks, clutching the tray of brownies still.

“You’re the guest.” 

Harry looks up, meeting his gaze and rolling his eyes softly. “Grass. We can connect with nature.”

Louis smiles back at him, nodding his head towards the steps that lead down from the decking onto the garden. “Make yourself comfy, I’ll go and grab us a blanket.”

 *

They lie spread out on the glass, a duvet from one of the spare bedrooms underneath them, Louis incapable of finding a decent blanket. The two of them are flat on their backs, not quite touching. The tray of brownies lies between them, well on it’s way to empty. It’s quiet, Louis can hear his own breathing matching up with Harry’s. Each inhale and exhale, chests rising and falling in fractions, perfectly paced.

Louis is at that settled stage of stoned where your mind is quiet but your body is tuned in. He can almost feel each fibre of the cotton duvet underneath him, each individual strand that strokes against his skin. He can feel the breeze slide over his body, raising hairs on his forearms when it flows over him. More than all of that, he can feel Harry. They aren’t touching, but it’s like there’s this energy, this aura thats seeping from his skin, being carried on the air and resting against Louis. He is definitely stoned.

He looks over to Harry now, titling his head so that his cheek is resting against the duvet. Harry’s staring up at the night sky, face illuminated by the light of the moon and the stars. Green eyes like a supernova, skin porcelain and glowing like the mass of the Milky Way. And for the first time in a long time, Louis lets himself stare. Lets himself just sit and look at the boy beside him. Doesn’t have to think, doesn’t have to curse himself or pull his head away, look down at the ground. Doesn’t want to. Doesn’t have to.

Louis always has to be doing something, surrounding himself with noise and clutter. Filling up the space around him, not allowing the world to catch up with him. In this moment he finds the silence and tranquility so comforting. Louis is always the one to speak first in a group, always the one to break the ice or ease the tension. He constantly feels the pressure to be the loudest, the funniest, the leader. It feels like a weight off his shoulders to have someone sit next to him in silence, occupied by the stars, not waiting on his next move. To have Harry next to him.

Louis watches Harry’s eyes flicker over to him, watches the dimple appear in his cheek. “D’you know anything about astronomy?” Harry half whispers through a smile.

Louis shakes his head, not taking his eyes off Harry. “Not really. You?” He slurs out, voice breaking a touch after not speaking for a while.

Harry shrugs his shoulders, “Not really, know a few constellations though.”

“Show me?” Louis asks him, nudging himself just that bit closer.

Harry adjusts his weight, bringing one arm up behind his head to rest on, using the other to point up to the sky. His motions are loose, arm waving a little unceremoniously. “The easiest one to find is probably The Plough.” Harry explains, his speech is slow and hesitant at the best of times, the bud only amplifying it more. “It’s meant to look like a wheelbarrow. But I think it looks more like…like a giant saucepan.” Louis laughs and follows Harry’s pointer finger, focusing his eyes on the sky, trying to make it out. “There’s three really bright stars that make up like, the handle part of it,” Harry continues “But there’s seven stars all together.”

Louis finds it with ease, eyes drawn to the shape in the sky almost instantly. Harry’s right, it looks nothing like a wheelbarrow. “Can’t find it.” Louis lies. He’s enjoying the way Harry is reeling off a list of definitive features, face crinkled in concentration too much to put a stop to it just yet.

Louis feels it before it even happens. Harry reaches over to him, lifting Louis’ hand from where it’s resting on his chest and taking it in his own. He extends their arms together, pointing Louis’ hand up to the sky. Harry waves it around, positioning it carefully and pointing directly towards the constellation. 

“Right there, just, look at where our hands are.” Harry utters, voice low in his throat.

Louis lets out a deep breath, feeling frozen in time. He looks up to where his and Harry’s hands are joined, the way Harry’s fingers are wrapped around his wrist. How his thumb is resting gently against his pulse point. There’s an entire galaxy in front of him, a whole universe thats expanding infinitely, stars exploding and planets spinning, yet somehow the sight of his and Harry’s interlocked hands feels more important.

“I can see it.” Louis says, his voice almost a whisper.

It’s still for a moment, neither moving as Harry keeps Louis’ hand suspended in the air. Louis is sure he feels a gentle squeeze, Harry’s fingers ever so lightly spreading and stretching to creep slowly up the back of his hand. He bites his lip as Harry directs Louis’ arm back down to rest against his chest again, giving it a pat as he drags his fingers away, painstakingly slow. 

“You’re really good at this.” Harry states as he mirrors Louis’ position, one arm behind his head and the other against his chest.

“Good at what?” Louis slurs, feeling sluggish after the adrenaline from Harry’s touch.

“Stargazing.” Harry decides after a long pause. “Being patient, and like, observant. Just sitting around, not doing anything.”

Louis snickers, his tone mock offended. “What do you mean, not doing anything? Um, hello. I’m clearly learning some very important facts about the cosmos.”

“Shut up,” Harry giggles back at him, wriggling around a little on the duvet trying to get comfy. They fall quiet again, Louis taking another bite of a brownie. “Lou?” Harry’s voice comes, small and unsure.

“Yeah?”

“Would you mind if…would you mind me, moving a bit closer?” 

Louis feels his heart drop in his stomach, like that feeling of tipping too far back on a chair. It takes the wind out of him to know there’s a part of Harry that thinks Louis wouldn’t want him close, wouldn’t want him touching, wouldn’t want him by his side. “You don’t have to ask.” Is all Louis gets out, picking up the tray of brownies between them and moving them to one side, patting the space they previously took up.

Harry beams back at him, sitting up before nudging himself into the space. Louis watches as Harry unties his hair from his bun, mesmerised as it falls against his shoulders, framing his face. Harry shakes it out, running his fingers through it once before lowering himself back to lie down next to Louis. Louis can feel his breath catch in his throat when Harry opts for resting his head against Louis’ chest. He can feel the heat of Harry’s flushed cheeks on his skin through his t-shirt, can feel his long hair tickle through the fabric. Wonders if Harry can hear how loud his heart is hammering against his ribcage. 

On impulse, and without much thought, Louis reaches out, bringing his hand to rest on Harry’s head. It could be the weed, but almost swears he hears Harry purr underneath him. Louis is still for a moment, just letting his palm stretch over the top of Harry’s hair, feeling it under him. He starts to stroke softly, just with the tips of his fingers, from his roots right the way to underneath his ear. Louis tucks a strand behind it, letting his fingers linger against the hot skin of Harry’s neck. When he brings them back up, he threads his fingers right through, revelling in the way Harry’s curls tangle around his fingers. When he closes his eyes, he’s eighteen again. Touching this boy for the first time, lying around with him and running his fingers through his hair. Except this time it’s different, this time he’s not making excuses. Not playing it off, letting himself enjoy it as much as he wants too. And yet it still feels just as soft and just as comforting as it did all those years ago.

They lay there for a long while, neither of them speaking, just Louis with his fingers in Harry’s hair, Harry letting out soft sighs every so often. Time doesn’t really seem relevant, Louis has no idea how long it is they’ve been laid out here in the back garden. The stars above him have blurred, only The Plough sticking out in his eyesight. Harry is still, doesn’t fidget or wriggle once even though he must be getting a dead leg from all his weight being on one side. Louis wonders if Harry feels it too, anxious to move an inch and shatter the delicate moment.

Louis really wants to kiss Harry. He wants to tug softly at his hair and bring his face up to meet his. Wants to feel Harry close, feel his breath against his chin, watch his features blur as he moves in closer. Hold his breath until the gap between them is closed, lips on lips, mouths pressed together. Bring his hand up to cup Harry’s face, thumb extended along his sharp jawline, rubbing gentle circles there. He’s envisioned what kissing Harry would be like for as long as he can remember. Found himself with eyes fixed on his plump lips, wondering if they felt as soft as they looked. Everyone gets curious, he’d told himself. Everyone’s thought about kissing their best friend a few times. It feels almost laughable now.

He could do it, he could ask Harry to kiss him, just like Harry had asked to lie next to him. It’d be that easy, _can I kiss you?_ But there’s still that nagging itch of self doubt. What if Harry says no, doesn’t even feel the same way at all? What if he thinks Louis’ attempt at rebuilding their friendship is just some ploy to get in his pants, a weird post break-up crisis?

“Lou,” Harry mumbles, almost as if on cue. 

“Yeah?”

Harry pauses, nuzzling his cheek further into Louis. “M’cold.”

Louis scratches softly at the back of Harry’s scalp, “Shall we go back inside?”

Harry doesn’t speak for a moment, but Louis hears him swallow harshly. “Um,” He clears his throat, “Yeah, alright.”

*

They wonder back inside, Louis scooping up the duvet in his arms and dragging it lazily across the ground, Harry holding the all but empty tray of brownies with the oven gloves slung around his neck like a scarf. It makes Louis squint when they step back in through the patio doors, the light of the kitchen so bright and obtrusive. The whirring of the AC unit and the rumbling of the dishwasher are an unpleasant contrast to the uninterrupted silence of the outdoors. 

He fumbles with the patio window, arms feeling heavy and fingertips fuzzy. He can’t get the lock to click shut, keeps jabbing his fingers into the wrong part. When it’s finally in its place, he turns back around to survey the area. He’s met with the sight of Harry, bent down and rummaging through his fridge.Louis chuckles softly, making his way over. When he reaches Harry, he puts a hand on his back. Just places it there, like a greeting. “What’re you after?” Louis asks him, taking his hand away again.

Harry stands up, angling his body slightly to face Louis. “Drink, m’mouth’s really dry. S’like cotton mouth but worse. ‘Cos of the brownies, they make your mouth dry anyway don’t they?”

Louis nods at him, he’s not really taking in much of what Harry’s saying. He gets like this when he’s really stoned, words seem to roll out of other peoples mouths and bypass the entrance to his ears. He’s watching him though, how his eyes are all bloodshot and his pupils blown. How the harshness of the ceiling light is casting shadows from his eyelashes over his cheeks. The way the neckline of his shirt is slipping over his shoulder, exposing his pointed collarbone, golden skin pulled taunt over it.

Harry starts to giggle, little small ones that erupt into a fit, his shoulders rising and his hand on his stomach.

“What?” Louis snaps back to reality, half laughing as he speaks.

Harry splutters through his words, trying to speak over his uncontrollable giggle. “We are so _stoned._ ” He whispers it like it’s some big secret, toothy smile spread over his face.

Louis caves at that, erupting into his own laughing fit. It’s like it spills out of him, just a wave of laughter that wont break, keeps growing until his sides are aching and his mouth hurts from smiling so much. Harry’s no better, getting it under wraps for a moment before catching Louis’ eye and starting them both off all over again. After what seems like forever, Harry finally takes a big breath, falling back into a comfortable smile, little giggles spilling out when he exhales.

“I’m even more thirsty now.” Harry says, so blunt and deadpan that it almost gets Louis going again.

“Would you like tea?” Louis manages to say with a somewhat straight face.

“Tea would be amazing.” Harry yawns, stretching his arms above his head and pulling them behind his back. Louis licks his lips at the way Harry’s white shirt stretches over his torso, how it rides up over his hips and shows off his slightly obnoxious laurel tattoos. When Harry looks back at him, Louis just gives him a feeble thumbs up before picking up the kettle and filling it up in the sink. “Um, Harry?” Louis asks over the noise of the water starting to boil inside the kettle.

“Mm?” Harry responds, rubbing his eye with the fabric of his sleeve.

“Would you, erm, d’you wanna stay round here tonight? Just cos s’late and I don’t fancy you driving all the way back still blazed. I mean, only if you want to. Just an offer, feel free to decline, no pressure.” 

Harry presses his lips together, smile still sneaking across his face regardless. He nods back at Louis slowly, “That’d be nice, yeah.”

“Sick.” Louis replies, dragging the word out. “Um…there’s like, a guest room down the hall. For you to sleep in, fresh sheets and all that.”

He watches Harry swallow, his eyes darting around the room. “Okay, yeah.” He fiddles with the hem of his shirt, twisting it between his fingers. “Uh, d’you mind if I use the shower just quickly?”

“Go for it, there’s an en suite in the guest room. If you wanna go now I can bring your tea in to you when you’re done?” 

It always used to drive Louis mad, living with Harry’s irritating tea habits. He would make himself a cup then leave it sitting around for ages, going practically stone cold before he would drink it. Louis the complete opposite, getting it all down in one, still piping hot and steaming. 

Harry grins at him, “Thanks. Is the shower hard to turn on?”

Louis purses his lips. “Nah, it’s…it’s actually _very_ easy to… _turn on._ ”

“Oh.” Harry states, eyebrows raised. “How d’you do it?”

“Just step in, make sure your clothes are off first because you’ll get splashed.” Louis says, his voice low. “And then you just put your hand…put your hand on the knob and give it a good tug.” Louis revels in the way Harry’s face contorts, trying and failing to hide his smirk, lips pursed together.

“Put my hand on a knob and give it a tug, sounds familiar.”

“Standard shower procedure.” Louis quips back, opening a packet of teabags.

“Thanks for the advice.” Harry calls over his shoulder, sauntering off in the direction of the guest room, hips swaying in what could well be over exaggerated motions.

*

Louis makes the tea in a trance of sorts, wandering dazed around the kitchen as he searches for mugs. When the button clicks on the kettle and steam begins to pour out of it, Louis watches, mesmerised by the way the moisture folds in on itself before circling upwards and billowing out against the metallic black of the raised cupboards. It pulls a comparison from Louis’ brain, the way the steam circles above him mocking the way the en suite bathroom is probably filling with the stuff as Harry immerses himself under the hot shower. He can’t think about that for too long though, can’t think about how Harry’s naked and dripping wet just a few feet away. How he’s in Louis’ house, how he’s going to stay the night.

With that in mind, he tears his thoughts away and tries to focus back on the task in hand. He drops a teabag in each mug before filling them with boiling water, stirring before throwing the teabags in the sink and adding milk. He makes Harry’s the way Louis knows he likes it, milky and with just a tiny dash of sugar, not quite half a teaspoon. 

When he takes a sip of his own tea, he feels the hot liquid spill down his throat, warming him and washing away the unpleasant feeling of dryness that lingered there. He’s almost unsure of what to do with himself, biding his time until Harry gets out of the shower. He contemplates having a quick cigarette while he waits, but can’t find the energy to search the house for a pack. Instead, he just sits on a stool by the kitchen island, sipping his tea slow. 

The past few hours don’t feel real, it feels like he’s going to wake up tomorrow and none of this will have happened. That he’ll wake up and him and it’ll still feel like there’s oceans between him and Harry. If he had known how well they would click back together, how seamlessly they could tie up in each other again, he would have done something sooner. That’s the thing, he’d been so scared. He’d been terrified that they’d grown too far apart to be pulled back in to each other. Being out of Harry’s life had hurt, but the fear of reaching out and not being let back in hurt even more. He’d grown comfortable in his sorry state, almost becoming numb and adapting to the Harry shaped hole in his life. He’s more than ready to stitch it back up.

Sitting here now, the noise from the shower in the background, he’s never felt more in control. More sure of what he wants. Things are never going to be normal with him and Harry, they’re never going to be just friends and Louis’ spent so long fighting that. It’s terrifying because it could be the best or the worst thing that ever happens to him. It could go either way, he could have everything or he could have nothing. If Harry doesn’t feel the same way then it’s back to zero. It’s back to glancing at him from the corner of his eye, wanting to touch but not allowing himself to. With that thought, he hears the water shut off in the shower. He waits a few moments for the noise of the en suite door to click open before taking Harry’s tea into his hand and making his way over.

He stands outside the door to the bedroom, suddenly feeling stupidly self conscious. He clears his throat and swipes his fingers through his fringe, patting it down against his forehead. Swallowing hard and taking a deep breath, he uses his free hand to knock against the door. “Got your tea.” He calls out, his voice sounding high and squeaky.

There’s stumbling from inside the room and the sound of a draw shutting. “Just in the bathroom, uh, come in.” He hears Harry reply.

Clearing his throat again, Louis pushes the door handle and steps in. Harry’s in the en suite, door ajar but hiding Harry from Louis’ sight. “Shall I put it on the bedside table?” Louis asks, wandering over.

“Yeah, please. I’ll be there in a sec.”

Louis puts the mug down, concentrating hard on not letting the liquid spill over the rim. He still feels groggy in his movements, everything slowed down and lagging. He hears a quiet cough coming from the bathroom door and looks over to meet Harry. His first reaction is to scoff, eyebrows raised. “What _are_ you wearing?” He laughs, taking Harry in. He’s got on a thin silk robe, it’s small against his broad frame, short and riding up over his thigh. It’s tied loosely over his torso, spilling open and showing off his chest, obviously. At first it’s comical, but Louis finds himself looking for too long, eyes lingering over how well the silk compliments the smooth skin of Harry’s thighs. 

Harry shrugs, “Found it next to the towels. Felt like…so soft, so I just put it on. Feel like I’m on Desperate Housewives.”

Louis chuckles as Harry steps out of the bathroom, damp feet leaving dark imprints against the plush carpet. “You’re very strange, Harold.”

“You love it.” Harry responds instantly, clearly without thinking. Both of them are still dazed from the bud and it’s quiet as Louis mulls over Harry’s words. When Louis doesn’t respond, Harry clears his throat. “Thank you for the tea.”

Louis blinks fast, pulling himself out his loaded headspace. “My pleasure, enjoy it.”

“I’ll see you in the morning?” Harry says over a sip of tea.

“Yeah, see you. G’night.”

“G’night.”

Louis is about to turn around and leave, but something inside is grounding him, holding him there in Harry’s space. “Haz?”

“Mm?”

Louis swallows what’s left of his pride, taking a deep breath and looking down at the ground. “Can I have a hug?”

Before Louis can look back up, he hears the sound of Harry moving over to him. He looks up through his eyelashes and watches Harry closing the gap between them, arms open. Louis holds his breath until Harry’s arms come to wrap around his waist, letting out a heavy breath when he realises they still fit like puzzle pieces. Louis feels warm, body white hot in every place it’s touching Harry’s. His hands feel so small against the expanse of Harry’s back, like two unnamed islands on a map of the world. It’s not too far from the truth he supposes, not when he feels like he’s holding his entire earth in his arms. His head slots perfectly in the crook of Harry’s neck, mouth just inches away from pressing against the delicate skin there. He turns his head just so, enough for his nose to be buried in Harry’s long hair. It smells like mango and soap, it smells like Harry. 

The faintest whisper falls from Harry’s lips, barely there. “Missed you so much, Lou.” It’s followed by a tight squeeze, Louis pressing impossibly closer to Harry, soft feel of the silk robe against his own exposed skin.

“Missed you.” Louis repeats, stroking the pad of his thumb against the hard line of Harry’s spine.They stay there, Louis doesn’t know how long, just breathing each other in. It becomes somewhat mismatched, a little out of order. Harry’s tall body sloping down over Louis, straining Louis’ back. Harry’s hair tickling at his nose. But it’s them, it always has been. Eventually they pull apart, Louis’ arms dragging down Harry’s back slow, desperate to relish the touch. They both let out a long sigh as his arms slip back to his sides.

“Night, Harry.” Louis offers, brushing himself off and fixing his fringe.

Harry sinks his teeth into his bottom lip, twisting the ring on his finger. “See you in the morning.”

 _Lean in. Lean in and kiss him._ Louis ignores his shouting subconscious, coughing nervously. “Um, okay. I’ll be, goin’ then.” 

Harry nods back, Louis squirming when he notices Harry’s eyes are fixed on his lips. _Do it now._ “Erm…sleep well.” He stammers, almost like he’s stalling for time.

“I will.” Harry replies, loosening the cord a little on the robe.

“Okay…good night.” And with that, Louis gives in, turning his back to Harry and heading for the door.

“Wait, Louis.” 

Louis freezes, swallowing hard before turning back around slow. “Yeah?”

“I sleep naked,” Harry blurts out, Louis’ eyebrows shooting upwards. “I mean, I mean, like I sleep naked, _usually._ ” Harry fumbles, “I just meant… is it alright if I do it in your bed- _this_ bed. Would you mind?” When he finally stops talking he presses his lips together, cheeks pink.

Louis just looks at him, mouth twitching into a smile before a breathy laugh creeps out. “Yes, that’s fine. Knock yourself out.”

Harry tucks his hair behind his ear, letting out a soft chuckle and giving Louis a half hearted thumbs up. “Thanks.”

“Well, goodnight then.” Louis says, yet again.

“We should take a shot for every time we’ve said goodnight in the past five minutes.” Harry smirks.

Louis grins back, “I’d rather keep my liver intact, thank you very much.”

“Goodnight, Lou.” Harry singsongs.

“Night, Hazza.” Louis replies, finally turning on his heel and closing Harry’s door behind him.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> another long ass chapter ft. ot5 realness and harry's love for tiny underwear

When Louis wakes up, it’s to the smell of bacon wafting through the room. He can just make out the muffled sound of music and the fridge door shutting in the kitchen. Yawning, he rubs his eyes, reaching out for his phone. It’s just gone 9:30am, practically the break of dawn to Louis. He stretches, curling his toes and turning over on the sheets. He lets himself lie there for a few moments, waking up properly and coming to his senses. 

His mind starts to fill with muddled memories of last night and he feels his stomach flutter as he recalls them. How he’d lay on the grass with Harry looking up at the stars, the hug they’d shared and how Louis had wound his fingers through Harry’s hair. His pulse quickens when he thinks back to that moment in the dark living room, _have you ever?_ Inhaling deeply, there’s a moment of realisation where it hits Louis that Harry had all but come out to him. How he’d done the same back. It should feel monumental, but it just feels good. Feels right.

His stomach grumbles and there’s that familiar pang of hunger urging him to get up and out of bed, towards the smell of the bacon frying downstairs. He pulls himself up, rifling through his drawers for a pair of joggers and a t-shirt. Wandering into the en suite he stares at his reflection in the mirror, severely displeased with what greets him. His hair is sticking up everywhere, too many loose strands that refuse to be petted down into his fringe where they belong. He’s got puffy eyes and dark circles underneath them, his lips chapped like they always get in the morning. 

Grumbling, he brushes his teeth, breathing into his palm when he’s finished to check his breath. He rubs a little vaseline over his lips, rubbing them together and praying it’ll give the illusion of softness. It’s a bit ridiculous, but he grabs a beanie from his bedside table and pulls it over his head, covering up the unruly bits as best he can. With one final check in the mirror, he wanders out of the bedroom and down the hall towards the kitchen. 

The door is ajar and Louis cant help but grin as he looks into the room. Harry is bunched over the hob, a frying pan in hand. He’s in a t-shirt and little black boxers that don’t leave much to the imagination, like he’s on some personal mission to raise Louis’ blood pressure before 10am. 

Louis can just make out the sound of bacon sizzling, it’s muffled by an Arctic Monkeys record playing from his speakers and _that’s_ muffled by the sound of Harry singing along, blissfully unaware of Louis’ presence. 

Louis pauses, just standing in the doorway and watching Harry work. He imagines what it would be like to wake up to this every morning, what it would be like to wake up to Harry every morning. For a second he contemplates sneaking up on him, standing behind Harry and wrapping his arms around his waist, resting his head against the broadness of his back. He swallows that thought along with a slight twinge of nerves before stepping into the kitchen and making his presence known. 

“Mornin’” Louis croaks, voice still sounding heavy with sleep. 

Harry turns around, offering Louis a toothy grin. “Good mornin’.” 

Louis takes a second to drink Harry in, and _God,_ he’s wearing one of Louis’ t-shirts. It’s small on him, leaving just a fraction of exposed skin between the waistband of his boxers and the hem of the shirt. Harry must notice Louis’ stare because he clears his throat before quickly adding, “Oh, sorry about the t-shirt.” He stammers, pulling at it with his free hand. “I would’ve put mine back on but it’s covered in like…flour and eggs and unidentified baking substances.”

Louis lets out a laugh, “Nah, it’s fine. I don’t mind, can keep it if ya want.” 

Louis watches Harry’s mouth twitch upwards a little, “Oh, um. Thanks.” Harry turns back around, giving the frying pan a shake and dodging out of the way when the bacon spits back at him. “Bacon sandwich?” Harry asks him over his shoulder.

“That’d be brilliant, yeah.” Louis busies himself with getting a loaf from the bread bin. “How many slices are we needing?”

“Uh…four?” Harry works out, “Got enough bacon for two each I reckon.”

“I’m on it.” 

Louis gets to work with buttering the bread, only using a very thin layer on Harry’s, mindful of his pickiness when it comes to dairy products. He watches Harry from the corner of his eye, the way he bops his hips to the music and sings along quietly to the words. Louis finds himself smiling into the butter, still sort of in awe at the fact that Harry’s stood in his kitchen making the two of them breakfast like nothing had ever changed.

The music continues to play from the speakers as Louis finishes with the bread, just bumping past Harry as he puts the butter back in the fridge. He knocks it shut with his hip and wanders back over, mouthing along to the lyrics of the song. It gets to the chorus just as their eyes meet and Louis gives him a quick smile, stomach filling with butterflies like he’s a teenager again. The track spills through the kitchen and Louis finds himself blushing as they both sing along to the lyrics; _All I wanna hear her say is, ‘are you mine?’_

*

“But what if you just _tried,_ just once, just to see.”

“ _Louis._ ” Harry exasperates, “No. There’s nothing you can say that’ll change my mind.”

“Nobody would have to know, not even the other lads. _C’mon_ Harry you know you want to.” Louis pouts back.

“Think of the heat damage.” Harry whines, running his fingers through his hair. 

“Just one time wont do any harm!” 

Harry shakes his head, smiling softly before standing up and collecting their empty plates. “Louis Tomlinson, there is no way on earth I’m letting you straighten my hair.”

Louis grins behind Harry’s back and he watches him stack the dishes into the dishwasher. “I cant believe you’re denying me experimental rights. Imagine how _long_ it’d be, probably like, past your nipples.”

He hears Harry scoff as he shuts the dishwasher and turns back around. “Well if it helps your thirst for knowledge at all, when I get out of the shower and my hair’s wet it reaches _just_ about here…” Harry points at a place on his chest where Louis knows the swallow tattoos are hidden under his shirt. “So not quite the nipples, but it’s getting there.” Harry shrugs, smirk spreading across his face.

Louis grins back at him, watching him run his hands under the tap before shaking them dry. “You know,” Louis begins, standing up and tucking his chair in, walking over to Harry. “I’ve always liked your hair long, suits you.” 

Harry catches his eye and Louis holds his gaze momentarily, feeling that familiar flutter in his chest. Harry breaks eye contact, looking down at the floor but Louis doesn’t miss the way his cheeks dimple with the effort to hide his smile. 

“The boy with the curls.” Louis chirps, quirking one eyebrow up at Harry. He comes closer, standing in front of Harry now, aching to close the gap between them. Harry ducks his head down, corners of his mouth still tucked up into a closed lip smile, dimples deep as ever. He’s leaning slouched against the sink, weight on his hips with his hands behind his back, pressed against the counter. Louis swallows hard before leaning in and placing one hand on the countertop behind Harry, just short of the courage to place the other on the opposite side of him and bracket Harry between his arms.

Harry looks up at him from underneath his eyelashes, Louis’ gaze falls over his face, pausing when it reaches his lips. Louis sinks his teeth into his own bottom lip, neither of them speaking.

It’s Harry that moves first, he takes his hand from behind his back and Louis’ breath catches in his throat when he places it at the back of Louis’ neck. Everything feels frozen apart from the steady rhythm of Harry’s breathing just audible over his own. 

Louis feels goosebumps rise up across the back of his neck when Harry curls his fingers through the wispy hair that sticks out of the bottom of his beanie. He holds his breath, heart pounding against his ribcage as Harry winds a strand around his finger, eyes not leaving Louis’. “I like yours long, too.” Harry all but whispers, words slipping through his lopsided grin. “I like it when it looks all soft.”

Louis’ eyelashes flutter, a warm blush seeping over his cheeks. He leans in closer to Harry, angling his body towards him further. “Do you now?”

Harry nods back with hooded eyes. Louis sighs when he drops his hand from where it’s tangled in his hair, moving it slow against the column of his neck until his thumb is resting against the line of Louis’ jaw. “I do.” Harry’s eyes are locked on Louis’ lips, his skin feels on fire, peaking at the spot where Harry’s thumb is brushing against his jaw in the most minuscule strokes. 

“Harry-“

He’s interrupted by the heavy buzz of a cellphone against the wooden table. _Fuck._ Harry drops his hand completely, letting it fall back against his side and Louis misses it already. 

“Um,” Harry coughs, standing up straight. Louis takes his hand away from beside Harry, bringing it up to his neck and scratching there.

“Think thats yours.” Louis squeaks, clearing his throat. “Left mine upstairs.”

“Oh, uh, yeah. It is.” Harry mumbles, “I better get it. Might be…important.”

Louis sidesteps away from Harry, brushing himself off and adjusting his beanie. “Yeah, no, go for it.”

Harry gives him a look that resembles an apology before ambling over to the kitchen table and picking up his phone. Louis busies himself with rummaging through the fridge whilst Harry takes the call. He tries desperately to get his heart to stop beating a million miles an hour, willing his legs to stop feeling like jelly and his stomach to stop fluttering. He can still feel the imprint of Harry’s thumb against his jaw, his long fingers resting against his neck and intertwining in his hair. Can still see the way his lips were shiny and wet, just a lean away from being pressed against his own. 

“Yeah, I’m with him now, so…” He tunes in to Harry speaking down the phone. He listens as Harry lets out a heavy sigh, “Yeah. It’s fine, we haven’t. Just at his house. Alright. I will. Yeah, speak to you then. Bye.” Harry ends the call and Louis turns around to see him rubbing his forehead, face scrunched up.

Louis wants to bound over to him, box him in against the table and whisper into his ear _now, where were we?_ Instead, he stays where he is and clears his throat. “Who was that?”

“Someone from management.” Harry grumbles, twisting the rings on his fingers. 

Louis feels his heart sink a little, “What’d they say?”

“About the BBMA’s tomorrow, gotta arrange flights and cars and all that.”

Louis groans low in his throat, he doesn’t want to be thrust back into the reality of his fast paced lifestyle. It’s shattering the illusion that everything could work out fine with Harry. It’s bigger than just the both of them, it always has been. It’s never going to be as simple as the two of them together, no matter how much either of them wants it to be. “What’d they say about me?” Louis breathes out. 

Harry looks up to meet Louis’ eye. “Same shit they always say.”

Louis lets out a soft laugh at that but it stings his throat. “I’m guessing we’re not flying together?”

“How’d you guess?” Harry responds with self deprecating smile.

It hurts. Louis wants to be angry, he wants to ring up their team and yell at them. He wants to say fuck it and walk down the street with Harry, let people take pictures of them together. Let people see. He’s into Harry, he wants Harry. He’s into _boys_ and there’s not a single thing about that that needs to be hidden. He can’t find it in him though, he’s spent so long being angry and scared and confused that he just doesn’t have it in him to pull those emotions to the front and centre. Not when Harry’s stood in front of him, not when they’re so close to reaching the end goal neither of them had realised they’d been aiming for.

In one quick motion, he moves forward and without thinking he wraps his arms around Harry, pulling him in close. He doesn’t kiss him, doesn’t think about kissing him because it’s about more than that. It’s the two of them against the world and Louis is beginning to realise it always has been.

They don’t speak, just stay holding each other. Harry rocks Louis gently, the side of his face nuzzled against Louis’ beanie. Louis closes his eyes and wishes he could stay like this forever, just wrapped in Harry, safe and away from the rest of the world. _I love you,_ he thinks and it doesn’t scare him because it’s not a new concept. _I’ve loved you since I first met you._

When they break apart, Harry keeps one arm around Louis’ waist, just steadying him in place. Harry leans back in, ever so softly placing the daintiest of pecks against the delicate skin of Louis’ cheek. “Thank you.” Harry whispers against his ear before they pull apart completely. 

Louis smiles back at him, it feels like his heart is bursting. “What for?”

Harry just shrugs, dimples like craters. “Not sure.”

Louis chuckles back, rolling his eyes fondly. “Weirdo.”

*

Before they know it, the morning slips past them and the early hours of the afternoon creep up. Harry’s flight is leaving late evening and with this realisation, the two of them start to gather up Harry’s things, packing his stuff back into his car. Harry gets changed back into his jeans and shoes and Louis’ gets a jittery feeling in his stomach when he notices Harry still has Louis’ t-shirt on. 

“So I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then?” Harry asks him now, standing in front of his car.

“Yup. I’m not flying out ‘till morning, so I probably wont see you until dressing.” 

Harry pouts, unlocking the car door. “That sucks.”

“Yeah, don’t miss me too much.” Louis winks back at him.

“Oh, I won’t.” Harry retorts playfully.

Louis giggles back, outstretching his arm for a quick goodbye hug, because that’s something they do now?  Harry responds instantly, looping an arm over Louis’ shoulder and pulling him in tight. “I had a good time, Lou. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He mumbles into Louis’ hair.

“Yeah,” Louis responds when they break apart, “See you then.”

*

The plane journey to Vegas is short and sweet, Louis spends most of it curled up asleep with his head resting against Liam’s shoulder, it’s been an emotionally draining few days. “Tommo,” Liam’s voice comes, nudging him back to consciousness. “Gotta pee.”

Louis blinks back up at Liam before yawning and moving his head so he can get up. When Liam leaves, Louis stretches his muscles, eyes itchy from the recycled air in the cabin. It’s a private jet but it still has that uncomfortable, inorganic feel to it that all planes do. He leans over to look out of the window, uninspiring sands of the Nevada desert rolling for miles below him. It’s broken up by scatterings of clouds, white and clean against the earthiness of the scrub underneath them. He hears Liam making his way to back to his seat next to him and he offers him a smile as he sits back down.

“What’s gotten into you?” Liam asks him with a smile, making himself comfortable.

Louis gives him a quizzical glance, “What?”

“You’re very smiley, keep checking your phone, got that dopey eyed look going on.” Liam teases.

On the way to the airport and all through the terminals he’d been texting Lottie details of the night before, blushing at her excitement and encouragement. “ **he soooo wants youuuuu!!!** ”

Louis shrugs back at Liam, “Eh. I don’t kiss and tell.”

Liam’s eyes widen. “What!? _Who?_ Why was I not informed!?”

Louis laughs, patting Liam’s leg. “I am a man of many mysteries.”

“Spill or you’re getting this water all over you.” Liam says, plastic glass of water in hand raised like a threat.

“Okay, okay!” Louis chuckles, wrestling Liam’s arm back down. “But you have to promise not to be like…weird about it and let me finish before you say anything.”

“…Okay…” Liam says, “You haven’t like, gotten off with someone’s mum or something have you?”

Louis rolls his eyes, “Payno, this is serious so no jokes or you’re not getting the story.”

“Shit. Alright, go ahead.” Liam sits back in his seat, concern on his face.

Louis takes a deep breath, lowering his voice so it’s only Liam that can hear him speak. “Right, erm. Well, you know Harry-“

“ _You kissed Harry?!_ ” Liam interrupts him.

“Bloody shout it across the whole plane Liam.” Louis hisses back, voice a whisper. 

Liam covers his mouth with his hand before lowering it and whispering this time, “ _You kissed Harry?!_ ”

Louis glares at him. “What happened to not saying anything before I’m finished speaking? No I didn’t _kiss_ Harry, but-“ He pauses there, not really sure of how to finish the sentence. I didn’t kiss Harry but I really _really_ want too? I didn’t kiss Harry but it feels like if I don’t soon I’m going to implode? “I didn’t kiss Harry but…it’s kind of a long story.” He sighs, scratching at his neck.

“We’ve got half an hour until we land.” Liam states, his eyes wide.

“I mean…you must sort of know parts of it anyway…” Louis mumbles, not making eye contact. “Like, you’ve seen us together. Seen everything.” Liam purses his lips before nodding slowly. “Kind of.”

Louis breathes out, picking at a loose hem on his joggers. “Right, well. It sounds stupid, but I sort of realised that I-“ He takes a deep breath, “That I like him as…more than a friend.”

Louis looks over at Liam, vulnerable and searching. He’s greeted by the most sincere smile he could hope for. Liam’s looking at him with big eyes, his lips pressed together and his head nodding like he’s proud. It makes Louis feel _so good_. Liam reaches over and puts an arm around Louis’ shoulder, giving him a squeeze. Louis finds himself thanking whatever it is thats responsible for giving him four of the best boys in the world completely by chance.

“Thanks, Liam.” Louis whispers as they pull apart.

“That’s alright mate.” He says, patting Louis’ shoulder. “So how did you realise?”

Louis scratches his head, “I guess I’ve always _known_. In the back of me mind. But it’s easy to make excuses for that sorta stuff init? Like yeah Harry is bloody attractive but _everyone_ thinks that, cos he’s Harry Styles.”

Liam tilts his head to one side, confused expression on his face. “Hm. I sort of get you. Like I think you’ve got a nice bum, but that doesn’t mean I’m gay, because _everyone_ thinks you’ve got a nice bum. It’s like a fact.”

Louis snorts, grinning back at Liam. “Thanks, mate.”

“So when you say you’ve always known, what about like, Eleanor? Was that all sort of just…not real to you or?”

Louis shakes his head, “Nah, at the start I did genuinely have feelings for her, like when we first got together. But you know what it ended up like, we barely even saw each other. We basically only kept calling it a relationship because it was easier for PR.”

Liam hums, nodding. “But what about other girls? Are you like, completely gay or is Harry your…exception or something?”

Louis furrows his eyebrows, shaking his head. “I’m tryin’ to figure all that out to be honest. I know I like boys, like I think about…being with boys.” Liam nods again, watching Louis intently. “But I do find some girls hot, I guess.” Louis waves his hand around in the air, “I don’t know, it’s confusing.”

“Well I love you no matter what you are, Tommo.” Liam says sincerely, nudging him with his elbow.

Louis nudges him back, “Love you too Payno. And you’re the only person I’ve told by the way, so don’t go blabbing to everyone ok?”

“Aw!” Liam coos, fluttering his eyelashes. “Lips are sealed.”

“Thank you.” Louis replies, taking a sip of his water. 

“Have you told Harry though?” Liam whispers.

And that’s a good question, not really, he hasn’t. “I’ve…dropped hints?” Louis offers, “Sort of like, flirted with him?”

Liam scoffs, rolling his eyes. “What, you mean like, for the past five years?” 

“Shut up.” Louis blushes, “I did not used to _flirt_ with him.”

“You are joking.” Liam laughs, “All you pair ever did was flirt with each other. Like, sickening amounts.”

Louis covers his face with his hands, “ _Really?_ ”

“ _Yes,_ ” Liam exasperates, “Half the time being around you two was like walking in on something you weren't supposed to see, I swear.”

“ _Fuck._ ” Louis groans, “You couldn’t have told me?”

Liam shrugs, “To be honest, I thought you knew.”

Louis shakes his head, letting it fall back against the headrest. “I’m an idiot.”

“You’re not.” Liam reassures him softly. “I can’t imagine being in your shoes. We’ve got enough stress to deal with without having to worry about fancying your bandmate as well.”

“Has Harry ever said anything to you about me?” Louis asks, staring straight ahead.

Liam ponders for a few moments, “Nah, but he didn’t have to. Written all over his face.”

Louis blushes at that, fighting back a grin. “Really?”

“Are you blind, mate?” Liam chuckles before raising his eyebrows, knowing look on his face. “He wants the D.” 

Scoffing, Louis flicks Liam’s nipple. “Twat.”

“This is your captain speaking, we’re just about to start our descent into McCarran International Airport,” The captains voice rings out over the PA system. “Please ensure your seat belts are fastened and all carry on luggage is correctly stored in the overhead compartments as we begin our descent.”

“Vegas is gonna be wicked.” Liam winks at him before strapping his seat belt.

*

Flights always tire Louis out, even short haul ones from state to state leave him feeling drained and in need of a good nap. There’s no time for anything like that though. As soon as they get through baggage claim, they’re dragged by their entourage into SUV’s and driven to a secret location to get ready for the awards. It always feels ridiculous, getting ready ages before they even need to be on the red carpet. They’re always dressed too soon and have to spend a good amount of time waddling around precariously in holding areas trying not to crease their suits or mess up their hair. 

Louis is nervous, a little bit for the awards, but a lot more at the thought of seeing Harry for the first time since their night together. He’s praying with everything he has in him that it won’t be awkward, that it won’t be one step forward and two steps back. They won’t be allowed to sit together at the awards, Louis knows that, but the after party is the perfect excuse for them to spend together without having to bend their publicists arm backwards. Not to mention Louis could do with a little liquid confidence. 

“Hello, love!” Caroline, their stylist calls out as Louis walks into his dressing room for fittings.

“Hello,” Louis yawns back, covering his mouth. “What’ve ya got for me today then?”

She beckons him over to the styling rack with his name on it. “We’re going for a simple black base with splashes of white and some grey blue tones. Very cool, very understated. Little bit on the cas’ side so you’re comfy all night.” She explains, pulling out his outfit from the rail.

“Nice, nice.” Louis nods, pulling the material of the soft cotton graphic t-shirt between his fingers. 

“I’ve got you the grey brogues from the AMA’s a few years back so you can get your ankles out, they always seems to be a big hit you know?” Caroline tells him.

“My ankles?” Louis quizzes, bewildered expression on his face. 

“Yeah!” She laughs, “There are people that are _obsessed_ with your ankles.”

“That is…flattering but also quite strange.” Louis chuckles, kicking his Vans off.

“I’ve heard weirder.” Caroline replies, “I’ll leave you to get changed alright sweetheart? Don’t be too long, Lou’s dying to get at your hair.”

“I won’t,” Louis sings back, waving her out as she shuts the door behind her.

Louis gets to work, shuffling out of his joggers and pulling his shirt over his head. He catches his reflection in the full length mirror opposite, pausing to look. He takes in what he sees, his half naked body reflected back at him, just his boxers to cover his modesty. Twisting his torso, he examines the curve of his back, the dimples above the swell in his arse and the sharp jut of his hipbones. There’s a moment where he finds himself wondering what big hands wrapped around his hips would look like, how they’d make his waist look so dainty and delicate. How he’d look from the behind, bent over and with his spine arched, accentuating his curves. He hears the door open and he stumbles away from the mirror, diving back to the clothes rail, busying himself with rifling through the garments. 

“Oh, um…hello.” A voice comes from the door and for fucks sake of course it’s Harry.

_Don’t make it awkward_ he mentally yells at himself before taking a deep breath and turning around. “Hello!” He sings, just a touch too enthusiastically. 

Harry raises his eyebrows at him, smile twitching at the corners of his lips. “Sorry to uh, walk in on you.” Harry’s eyes move south and the glance actually makes Louis thigh twitch nervously. “Liam told me my stuff was in here?” 

_Bloody Liam._ Of course he did. “Think he might have gotten, ah…confused. Caroline’s got all our racks in separate-“ He cuts himself off when he notices Harry fumbling around in the corner, pulling out a rack with ‘Harry BBMA’s ’15’ taped to it. “…Or not.” Louis finishes, meeting Harry’s eye and offering him a bewildered glance.

Harry rifles through the clothes, “Well these are definitely mine.” He says, pulling out a black silk scarf. “Guess we’re sharing a dressing room?”

Louis hums, folding his arms over his chest, suddenly feeling a wave of self consciousness sweep over him. “I guess we are.”

Harry shoots him another smirk before beginning to undo the buttons on his shirt and the zipper on his jeans. “God works in mysterious ways.”

“More like _Liam_ works in mysterious ways.” Louis mumbles under his breath, pulling his shirt off the rail and smoothing it out in his hands.

“Oh, Louis?” Harry calls from behind him. “Can I ask you a favour?”

Louis involuntarily takes an embarrassingly loud, sharp breath when he turns around and is met with the sight of Harry in nothing but a pair of _extremely_ small grey briefs. This is the second time in three days Louis has found himself confronted with Harry in underwear that leaves little to the imagination and he cant tell if it’s a blessing or a curse. “Yeah?” Louis replies, his voice coming out all high pitched.

“Um, would you mind undoing the clasp on my necklace? S’really fiddly and my fingers are too big to get at it properly.” 

Louis has to purse his lips together to stop himself from actually screaming. As if he needs to be reminded of how big Harry’s fingers are right now. “Yeah sure, hold on.” He looks at the shirt he’s holding in his hands. There’s a quick internal struggle where he has to decide whether to shove it on or drape it over the rail. Swallowing, he chucks it back over the rail before walking over to Harry like he’s in a trance.

Harry looks at him from over his shoulder, blinking his eyelashes. “Thanks,” 

And then Louis is faced with the great expanse of Harry’s back, up close and personal. He’s all sharp lines and rough edges, soft shadows and smooth curves. Louis finds himself licking his lips. “Uh, your hair’s in the way. D’you mind if I just-“ He stammers as he scoops his fingers into the back of Harry’s hair, parting it around his neck so he can get at the silver chain underneath it. Louis feels his heart racing as he shuffles closer, perching up on his tip toes to get a proper look at the clasp. 

He’s suddenly very aware that both him and Harry are standing in nothing but their underwear, Louis’ all but pressed against Harry’s back. If he moved forward just an inch, he could press his crotch against the swell of Harry’s arse. The thought makes his hands clammy and he struggles with the clasp, the cool metal slipping between his fingers. “S’difficult, this.” Louis breathes out against Harry’s neck. He sees Harry shiver under him and Louis’ pulse quickens.

“Mm,” Harry mumbles, his head lolled forward so Louis can get better access. 

Louis flicks at the clasp with his thumbnail, and by chance it unlocks. He can’t help the twinge of disappointment in his stomach. “There we go,” Louis coaxes, pulling the chain out of the clasp. He has to lean forward on his tip toes to bring it over Harry’s head. As he takes the necklace into one hand, there’s a split second where he looses his balance, putting his hand on Harry’s waist to steady himself. His skin is soft and warm and Louis wants to dig his fingers into it. Instead, he lets it gently rest there as Harry turns around to face him. He’s met by Harry’s pressed lip smile and dimpled cheeks.

He notices Harry’s eyes dart down to where Louis’ hand is resting, just above the line of his briefs. “Thank you.” His voice comes out, almost a whisper.

Louis cant help but tighten his grasp, just letting his fingers curl against Harry’s hip, squeezing the skin there just so. Harry’s eyelashes flutter as he leans in to the touch. Without giving himself time to think about it, Louis reaches with his other arm to wrap around Harry’s neck. He aborts it mid gesture. _Shit,_ now isn’t the time. He can’t do this in a shitty dressing room half an hour before they walk a red carpet. “Um,” He clears his throat, his arm awkwardly suspended in mid-air. “Your necklace.” 

“Oh, right, yeah.” Harry stutters, holding his hand out for Louis to drop it in. Louis lets it slip through his fingers into Harry’s palm. “Thanks.” Harry stumbles, dragging out the ’s’. 

Louis gives him a nod, before tapping his hip with his other hand, taking it away swiftly. “You’re welcome.” Louis looks up through his eyelashes, giving Harry what he hopes is a reassuring smile. Something that says _I want to, but not now._ Harry looks back at him, his bottom lip drawn between his teeth. 

He nods softly, just once and barely there before raising his hand in a shaky motion, fist drawn with his thumb up. “Better get a move on.” He murmurs, “Big night tonight.”

If it’s loaded with double meaning, Louis doesn’t let himself think too much about it. 

They get changed without any further incident, apart from Harry toppling over and sending a rack of clothes flying in an attempt to get into his skinny jeans. 

“You ready?” Louis asks him, brushing himself down in the mirror and pulling the lace on his shoes.

“Yep.” Harry responds, coming up behind him in the mirror. “Is the scarf a bit much?” He asks, gesturing to the silk material hanging from his neck.

Louis looks at Harry’s reflection, taking in his form. “Definitely not. I’d undo another button on your shirt too, just for safe measure.” 

Harry laughs, rolling his eyes at Louis words. He unbuttons it anyway.

“C’mon then, hair and make up awaits.” 

* 

 

They’re met by the other boys in hair and makeup, Liam waggling his eyebrows suggestively at him from his chair him as he makes his way in with Harry. Louis flips him the finger teasingly.

It’s quiet in the dressing room as they get their hair done, the four of them occupied by their own thoughts. Liam and Harry are always the first to be finished, Liam’s short hair easily sitting however Lou wants it and Harry’s so long and curly that there’s not much to do except apply a squirt of styling mousse and some hairspray. The two of them wander off into the smoking area together, Harry offering Louis a quick smile and a “See you in a bit,” over his shoulder as he leaves. It’s such a small gesture but it’s one he would have been deprived of had this been a few months back. The thought gives him just a small amount of butterflies.

Niall picks up on it immediately, turning to Louis as soon as Harry and Liam are out of ear-shot. “Whats going on with you two then?” He grins, raising his eyebrows.

Louis shrugs him off. “All he did was say ‘see you later’ Niall.”

“Fuck off,” He laughs, “You know what I’m talkin’ about.”

Louis sighs, rolling his eyes. “Go on then, what’s Payno told you?”

Niall shoots him a confused look. “I was talkin’ ‘bout how closey you’ve been gettin’. Went for lunch, Harry sleepin’ at yours, starin’ at the stars-“

Louis elbows him, “Who told you all that?!” 

Niall cackles at him, “Dunno if you’re aware, but me and Harry are quite good mates.”

“Harry told you about all that?”

 “He did indeed.” Niall nods, eyebrows raised knowingly.

“Well what did he say?!” Louis presses for more information, voice hushed so their stylists don’t hear.

“Oh, nothing much.” Niall sings, revelling in Louis’ exasperated expression. “Just that he fancies you a bit.”

“Fuck _off._ ” Louis whines, “He didn’t say that.”

“Might have been put a bit more eloquently but-“

“Are you fucking with me or did Harry actually tell you he…likes me. Like, _likes_ me likes me,”

Niall laughs, “I feel like I’m twelve again. But seriously, Tommo. He told me about staying round yours and how you talked and how great it was to spend time with you. And he may have mentioned something about how he thinks he might have feelings for you.”

It’s strangely refreshing to hear Niall talk about it as if it’s no big deal. Like he’s just talking about it the same way he’d talk about anybody having feelings for Louis. Like it doesn’t matter that it’s a boy, or that it’s Harry.

“I’m only telling you this because I think you need to know.” Niall continues, “He’s scared shitless, Tommo. Like, he thinks he’s readin’ you wrong. He doesn’t wanna frighten you off.”

Louis lets his head loll back against his seat, closing his eyes for a moment. “He’s not reading me wrong, Niall.”

“Yeah, I know.” Niall responds, simple as that. “Go get him I say.”

Louis sighs heavily. “I’m workin’ on it.” 

*

They’re one of the last acts to arrive on the red carpet, yet the atmosphere is like they’re the first. As soon as they step out of the car onto the carpet, a million flashes erupt before them, screams and yells coming from all around. Their handler shuffles them all over to their correct spot, and they line up together in front of a wall of paparazzi. Louis finds himself zoning out as the photographers get their pictures, yelling their names and pointing at places for them to look. Harry’s stood one spot away from him, next to Niall. Louis finds himself wondering what would happen if he got in between them and slung an arm over Harry’s shoulder in front of all the cameras. What’s the worst that could happen? He doesn’t get to find out because before he knows it they’re being directed over to a group of reporters for interviews. However, chancing his luck, he alters his step so that he ends up stood next to Harry in the interview line up. Harry looks at him, a look of surprise on his face before it changes to a smile.

“Alright this is for E! boys, it’s live so watch what you say and don’t swear.” Their handler addresses them before waving the camera crew over, giving Louis an extra look of warning. _Oh, fuck off._ Louis thinks.

The interview starts and Louis listens to the rest of the boys take the lead in the mindless chatter, how excited they are to be here, that they’re so happy to be nominated, how grateful they are. He tunes in again though when the interviewer asks, “So there’s a big tour starting in July, what can we expect from you? What does the future hold?”

And shit, isn’t that a question. Louis tends to think about things only as they occur in the present, he’s had to to be able to survive the fast paced lifestyle of the band. Thinking about months or even years ahead is a foreign concept and it’s fucking terrifying. _What does the future hold?_ How is he possibly going to handle everything thats been going on in his mind these past few weeks for the _rest of his life._ It’s not going to go away. He’s not going to wake up one morning and be the heterosexual poster boy he’s been sold as for most of his adult life. 

“Umm…” He hears Harry begin.

It’s Harry too, that’s something that’s going to be there forever. A red carpet in front of a camera may not be the best place for a realisation, but as Harry said, God works in mysterious ways. He’s going to want Harry forever. He’s wanted him since the moment he met him and he can’t imagine that coming to an end any time soon.

“A fun tour, I think. I think we’re all, um, really looking forward to it.” Harry tells the interviewer. “And uh, we’re working on a new album. And yeah, maybe there’ll be some surprises along the way. Who knows.”

Louis adjusts his weight, leaning to the side and just brushing against Harry’s arm with his own. “Yep.” Louis dares to add on to the end of Harry’s sentence before the interviewer moves on to the next question. Harry nudges him back briefly, Louis looking down at the ground and trying to mask his smile.

The rest of red carpet is over in a flash, they take pictures with fans and do a few more interviews before they’re ushered inside the venue. They traipse inside and find their seats, Louis contemplates sitting himself down next to Harry, but he looks back at management behind them and decides that maybe he should pick his battles wisely. He pauses and lets Niall scoot in-between the two of them, rolling his eyes and shrugging nonchalantly when Niall gives him a questioning look. When they’re all seated, he leans back behind Niall’s back, poking Harry’s shoulder and whispering his name.

Harry turns around, meeting his eyes with a doe eyed grin. “Yeah?”

“Hi.” Louis whispers, shrugging back at him.

Harry furrows his eyebrows with a smirk before whispering back “Hi.”

“Okay, bye.” Louis quips, before turning back in his seat, ensuring that he makes direct eye contact with management sat behind him, raising his eyebrows in a gesture that feels like _what are you gonna do about it?_

It’s definitely immature, but it’s been so long since Louis has felt that urge to be mischievous. To actively challenge the forces separating him and Harry. It’s been a long time since he let himself remember they were there in the first place. _It’s gonna be okay,_ he thinks as the lights go down and the music starts, _we’re gonna be okay._

They win their first nomination, of course they do. It’s for Top Group and even after all these years Louis has to shake himself a bit when he realises just how successful the band is. It’s bittersweet because there’s no Zayn and Louis’ heart aches just the smallest amount when Liam mentions him in their acceptance speech. He adds Zayn to the mental list of people he needs to talk to about Harry, regardless of how things unfold between the two of them. Although he has a pretty good feeling about tonight.

The next award is for Best Touring Artist and unsurprisingly they win that too. The four of them make their way back to the stage and in the commotion, Louis taps Harry on the shoulder, mouthing “wait for me,” when he turns around. Harry stumbles a little, letting the other boys walk in front of him so Louis can walk next to him. Louis goes all soft inside when he catches Harry grinning at the floor.

They make their way onto the stage and Louis doesn’t have to look, but he’s feels Harry’s warmth against his side, their shoulders knocking together. He’s in high spirits, so he takes the mic and thanks the fans, reiterating how much they love touring. When he’s finished, Harry leans in to the mic, face inches away from Louis’. He absolutely has to distract himself by turning to laugh at nothing with Niall otherwise he might have been tempted to lean in and plant a kiss on the soft skin of Harry’s cheek.

They spend a while back in their seats, just watching the show and talking between each other. It’s nights like these were Louis realises how much he really does love these boys, how thankful he is to have them in his life and for all they’ve achieved together. Louis has always been a big believer in fate and all of this might have a lot to do with it. They have to get back on stage one last time to present an award and Louis scoots in between Liam to stand next to Harry, just because he feels like it. The award goes to John Legend and the four of them hurry off to the corner of the stage for him to say his acceptance speech.

Louis watches Harry dart off to the side of Niall and before he knows it he feels him come up behind him. His breath catches in his throat when Harry leans in a fraction, just close enough to whisper into Louis’ ear. “You smell _really_ good.”

Because _that_ was necessary. Louis feels himself shiver as Harry’s breath ghosts over his neck and god how much longer is left of this fucking award show? He’s dying to get to an after party, get one or two drinks down him, just enough to give him that extra sliver of confidence and water down his inhibitions. He’ll find Harry, maybe dance with him in the corner, away from prying eyes. Wrap his arms around his neck and press their chests against each other. 

He’s pulled from his train of thought by security walking them off stage and into the backstage press room. They’ve got a few more interviews to do before they can leave and Louis can feel himself getting antsy already.

He walks with the other boys in a daze before he finds himself in front of another wall of camera’s. “Could you all just stand on the x for me?” The photographer asks, taking a few test shots, the flash making Louis blink.

They fumble together in front of the camera, smiling and joking around as he gets his snaps. There’s one more interview they have to do and their handler leads them over to the correct spot.

It seems to go on for fucking _ever._ It’s a small consolation when he notices Harry fiddling with his suit and tapping his foot likes he’s impatient too. 

Louis isn’t paying too much attention to the interview but he zones back in just as Liam says, “Every time we speak, there’s these two brothers,” He gestures to Harry and Louis.

Louis can’t help himself, he raises his eyebrows far enough to shoot of his forehead before scoffing and replying “ _Brothers?_ ”

It might be one of the least subtle things Louis’ ever done, he doesn’t really care. He notices Harry bite back a grin and suddenly he cares even less.

The interviewer keeps rambling on about new songs and new tours and Louis wishes he could just hand him a press statement and leg it. Liam’s blathering on too, telling the interviewer the ins and outs of their album release dates and Louis wants to shake him by the shoulders and tell him to hurry the fuck up. Finally, the interviewer wraps up the interview and Louis cant help but let out a laugh when Harry prematurely thanks him for having them before the interviewer is even finished speaking. 

“Uh yeah.“ The interviewer stumbles, “Thanks for your time guys.”

After that it’s like someone’s hit fast forward, but hasn’t turned it up to full speed quite yet. They’re rushed through the back rooms of the venue by security and placed in a holding area that leads out into the private car park where they wait for their SUV’s to arrive. The four of them and various members of their entourage spread themselves around the plush leather sofa’s whilst they wait. There’s a bottle of champagne being passed around, each of them taking swigs straight from the bottle, because it’s Vegas. 

Harry’s wandered off somewhere to catch up with industry friends he’d bumped into earlier on. Louis doesn’t feel the same pangs of jealousy or aggravation at the lack of Harry’s presence, not like he would have done a few months ago. Harry has friends, a lot of them and sometimes he’s going to want to do his own thing and hang out with them. The past few days have made Louis realise that co-dependancy feels nice in the short term, but it’s unhealthy. Harry’s got his life here in LA, he’s got his famous friends and expensive lifestyle. But Louis feels more and more certain that there’s a place for him within that. That he can slot back into Harry’s life like he never left it to begin with.

“D’you know Taylor Swift is hosting an after party?” One of their security asks the room.

“Yeah!” Niall replies, gulping down a mouthful of champagne before wiping his mouth with his hand. “I was thinkin’ of going actually.”

Louis snorts, “Fuck off, you’re going to _Taylor Swift’s_ party?”

Liam giggles from the other sofa. “Won’t that be a little bit awkward mate?”

“Nah,” Niall shrugs, shaking his head. “Why would it be awkward, I wasn’t the one that fake dated her.”

“Won’t Harry find it weird?” Their security asks, taking the bottle of champagne from Niall and passing it to Liam.

Louis turns to see Harry walking in through the door, glass of red wine in hand. “Won’t Harry find what weird?” He asks, taking a sip before perching himself on the arm of the sofa Liam’s sat on.

Liam wiggles closer to him, patting his thigh lightly. “Niall wants to go to Taylor Swift’s after party.”

Harry blinks, using his free hand to sweep his fingers through his hair. “Okay?” Louis stays quiet, not sure where he fits in the conversation.

“You wont mind would you Harry?” Niall presses. “Not like she’s your _actual_ ex, right? Apparently it’s gonna be sick, like _everyone_ is goin’”

“Why would I mind?” Harry questions, rubbing his neck with his palm. “We could all go.” He looks over at Louis briefly, eyebrows furrowed like he’s trying to read his expression.

“I’ll come.” Louis blurts out, holding his palm out for Liam to pass him the champagne. “It’ll be fun.” 

Liam raises his eyebrows, handing him the bottle. “Well if we’re all up for it…”

“I can get the cars to take you straight there.” Security chips in, pulling out his phone. “Probably best if _you_ avoid camera’s though.” He says, gesturing towards Harry. “PR’d kill me if you got spotted on the way to your ex’s party. Best that you get a separate car.”

Harry rolls his eyes, shrugging. “Yeah, alright whatever.”

There’s still a sharp burn when Louis hears Taylor’s name. It gets sharper when someone refers to her as Harry’s ex. That time was so difficult for the two of them, but more importantly it was so difficult for Harry. He tries not to remember how heavy Harry’s eyes had been for the entirety of the stunt, how pale and lifeless he’d been. The look on his face when he’d waved goodbye to Louis before boarding a plane to spend New Years in a strange city with strange people, thousands of miles away from home. It’s another reminder of how desperately the rest of the world seems to want them to be something they’re not. Wants them holding hands with pretty girls, backs turned and not looking at each other like there are galaxies in their eyes.

For all that it should fill Louis with resentment and sadness, in it’s place is an urge to not back down, to prove everybody wrong. Louis’ always had that in him, taking people’s criticisms and poor opinions of him and using it as fuel to better himself. When music critics had ragged on the band for not writing their own music, Louis had taken it upon himself to write the majority of the past two albums. When his old boss had fired him from his job at the cinema, he’d gone back there four years later to watch himself and the rest of the boys in their record breaking movie. The geography teacher that told him he would never amount to anything, that one is pretty self explanatory.

If it has to be him and Harry against the world, well then that’s only going to make them stronger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'd be lying if i said the "brothers?" moment at the BBMA's wasn't the exact moment that inspired this whole fic so hey, shout out to liam for always coming through. also shout out to ot4 for being the realest and shout out to ot5 for still living on inside my soul.  
> lyrics at the start of the chapter are from R U Mine by arctic monkeys (obviously)   
> hope you liked x


	6. Chapter 6

Niall and Louis are the first to get to Taylor’s and Louis would be lying if he said he didn’t feel incredibly awkward. He hadn’t exactly been the friendliest person towards Taylor in the past. There’d been plenty of times where he’d made snide comments about her in interviews and he cringes when he remembers the time he pushed her out of the way when a group of them were singing karaoke together backstage at Madison Square Garden.

With this in mind, he’s fully expecting to be greeted by a cold look and probably even a roll of the eyes. What he doesn’t expect is for Taylor to launch herself at both him and Niall, pulling them into an embrace and squealing when they separate.

“Oh my gosh, hi!” She exclaims, “Congratulations on your awards! You guys were super awesome!”

Louis blinks steadily a few times, steadying himself and fixing his fringe, laughing a little awkwardly. “Erm, thank you!” He tries, “You too, congrats.”

“Oh, sick is that a Photo Booth?” Niall interrupts, pointing past the crowds of people.

“Yeah it is, you guys should totally come take pictures!” Taylor replies, bouncing around on the spot.

Louis gives Niall a quick glance and Niall shrugs back at him. “Yeah, alright then. Why not?”

*

The party _is_ sick to be fair. Practically everyone who was at the award show is here, Louis bumping into someone he knows every few seconds. The venue is amazing, Taylor’s rented out a whole club for the night, it’s got a multitude of different levels and rooms, all with their own themes. The drinks are flowing and the dance floors are heaving, lights and lasers making everything blurred and bedazzled in Louis’ vision. 

Louis’ phone vibrates in his pocket as he dances with Niall and a few people he doesn’t know the names of. He pulls it out, turning his body away from the crowds of people to read it.

 **‘I’m almost here x’** It’s from Harry.

He gets butterflies in his stomach as he takes the message in, Harry’s going to be here soon. Taking a swig of his drink for added confidence, he types out **‘hurry x’** and hits send.

Harry replies almost instantly, **’I’ll be here as quick as I can ;)’**

Louis blushes at the winky face before typing out **‘not quick enough’**

He can’t believe he’s flirting with Harry over text in the middle of a dance floor like some teenage boy with a crush. 

“Louis!” Niall calls to him, wrapping his arms over Louis’ shoulder and spinning him around. “Get off the phone you anti social twat.” 

Louis locks his phone quickly, shoving it back in his pocket and laughing at Niall’s words. “Sorry, lad. Let’s go get another drink, yeah?” They make their way over to the bar, shuffling through people to get to the front. 

Niall calls the bartender over and gets him and Louis a drink. “Who were you textin’?” Niall asks him, smirking.

Louis rolls his eyes, taking the drink from the bartender and offering a thanks. “Are you really gonna make me say it?”

“Yup.” Niall nods, shoving a straw into his glass.

Louis knocks Niall’s arm playfully, “I was texting Harry.”

“Aww!” Niall drawls out, pinching Louis’ cheek before Louis’ bats him away. “What were you sayin’, ‘can’t wait to see you my little sweetie pie, miss you even though we’ve spent all night glued to each other.’”

Louis shoves him again, elbowing him in the side. “You are a dick, you know that?”

Niall grins at him, “I am. But you love me.”

“I do love you Nialler.” Louis agrees, ruffling Niall’s hair. “Like, actually I do.”

“How many drinks have you had?” Niall scoffs.

“I’m serious, I know I’m a sap but I genuinely do love _you_ and _Liam_ and _Zayn_ and…Harry but in kind of a different way,” He rushes without a breath, “Like you’re the best friends I could ask for.”

Niall pulls him into a hug, knocking his glass against Louis’ shoulder, “Love you too, man.”

When they pull apart Louis feels his phone ring in his pocket, he checks the screen and it’s Harry. He holds it up to show Niall, giving him a nervous expression. Niall winks at him and offers a reassuring nod. Taking a deep breath, Louis answers. “Hiya,”

“Hey,” Harry responds. Louis strains to hear him over the loud music. He covers his other ear with one hand, turning away from the source of the noise.

“Alright, I can barely hear you.” Louis speaks into the phone, gesturing to Niall and pointing towards the quieter back area. Niall gives him a thumbs up as he heads off over in the direction of it.

“What about now?” Harry’s voice comes, a lot clearer than before.

“Yeah, better. Where are you?” 

“I just got in, I’m by the main doors just past security.”

“Okay, gimme a sec I’ll come find you.” 

Harry pauses for a moment and Louis hears him giggle, “Hurry,” repeating Louis’ words from earlier. Louis rolls his eyes, laughing softly into the phone.

“See you in a sec.” He finishes, hanging up the phone. “Niall!” He shouts over a sea of people, “I’m off to find Harry!”

Nialls got his arm slung over the shoulder of a beautiful blonde, whispering something into her ear. He looks up for a moment at Louis, flashing him a thumbs up. Louis laughs before turning on his heel and fast walking through the maze of rooms towards where Harry is.

Louis spots him right away, he stands out against the crowd like there’s a permanent spotlight attached to him. For all that Harry is charismatic and charming, a socialite of sorts, he’s also endearingly awkward at times. He’s stood in the corner of the room, large frame slouched over his phone whilst people bump past him on their way to the dance floor. He’s a contradiction, loud-print sheer shirt and shiny boots that scream _look at me_ , body hunched and turned away from the action, pensive expression that reads, _please don’t._

Harry looks up just as Louis reaches him, shooting him a toothy grin. Louis smiles back, sweeping his fingers through his fringe.

“About time.” Louis teases, coming to stand in front of him.

Harry giggles, “Sorry, the crew convinced me to have a few drinks with them before I came.”

“Are you drunk?” Louis asks him, leaning in and flicking a spec of dirt from Harry’s shirt.

“Hm,” Harry contemplates, “Tipsy?”

“Twins!” Louis exclaims, holding out his hand for Harry to high five. Harry laughs, meeting Louis’ hand in mid air, holding it there for a few moments. Louis can't help but notice the difference in size between their palms, Harry’s dwarfing his. “Fancy another drink?” Louis asks when they separate. “I left Niall all alone at the bar to come find you.”

Harry puts his hands over his heart, “Aw!” He coos jokingly. “How sweet.”

Louis smirks at him, rolling his eyes. “Only for you, babe.” He watches Harry’s nostrils flare at the words, corners of his mouth twitching up into a smile. “C’mon let’s go find him.” He gives Harry just the smallest tap on the ass as he turns around, liquid confidence fuelling his actions. He gets a raised eyebrow and a cheeky smirk in return.

*

They don’t find Niall, it’s like he’s disappeared into nowhere, although the fact that they stopped looking after a few minutes, too occupied with each other, might have something to do with it.

They’re stood near the bar now, sipping their drinks, leaning in to each other to be heard over the music and giggling senselessly at nothing. They’re flirting and Louis’ loves it. Harry sips his drink through a straw, looking up at Louis through his eyelashes, sultry and sly.

Louis downs the rest of his drink, letting the plastic cup fall to the floor. Harry’s eyes follow the motion of it and when he looks back up, he’s staring right at Louis. “Dance with me.” Louis blurts out, it’s muffled over the thumping of the music but the way Harry’s eyes light up let him know he heard him loud and clear.

Harry’s smirking at him, all coy and mischievous like he knows exactly how much he’s affecting Louis. He takes another sip of his drink, sucking at the straw before placing the glass on a pillar next to him. “How shall we dance?” His voice comes out low, gravelling almost.

Five years of second guessing himself act as ammunition for the way he slots himself in front of Harry, slinking his arms around his neck like it’s second nature. “How would you like to?” He breathes against Harry’s ear, feeling the wisps of his hair tickle at the side of his face.

Harry responds by snaking his arms up, hands resting against Louis’ hips. He feels dwarfed by them, by the way Harry’s long fingers wrap around his hipbones, pads of them pressing into the soft flesh of his stomach. He lets out a shaky breath as he feels Harry squeeze, pulling him in closer so that their bodies are lined up. 

“Like this?” Harry mumbles into his neck, rocking in small circles, moving Louis’ hips in the same motions with his hands. When Louis follows suit, swaying his hips to the rhythm of the music, Harry lowers his hands, dragging them back so that they’re resting low on Louis’ back, dangerously close to the swell of his arse. _Fuck_ , Louis wants to feel them there. Wants to feel Harry’s palms pressing against him, his fingers squeezing at his flesh, kneading and touching every part of Louis he can get at.

Their chests are pressed together, close enough that Louis can feel the heavy beat of Harry’s heart pounding against his ribcage. They keep moving together, Harry’s hands on Louis’ lower back, almost guiding him to move in beat with the music, his mind too preoccupied to focus on it himself. Louis takes his hands from Harry’s neck, sliding them down Harry’s chest and placing his palms on his sternum instead. In this position, he can feel Harry’s heart even more clearly, the way it’s hammering at his chest a mile a minute. 

“Or like this?” Harry whispers, his breath hot and heavy against Louis’ neck. Following his statement up, he moves his hands back to Louis’ hips. In a quick motion he turns Louis’ around so that he’s faced away from Harry. He feels Harry’s hand come to rest against his stomach, pulling him in closer and _shit_ , Louis almost chokes when he feels Harry’s crotch lined up against his arse. Jesus Christ, it might be even better than having his hands there.

Harry’s fingers slip under the material of his t-shirt, grasping at the curve of his waist. It raises goosebumps all over Louis as his fingers skirt over skin, teasingly slow and light like it’s barely there. Louis rocks his hips backwards, grinding right up against Harry’s crotch in an attempt to get him to just fucking touch him properly. It works because he feels him tighten his grip on Louis’ waist, digging his fingers in.  “Cheeky.” He hears Harry snigger above him, and God honestly, fuck Harry. But also _fuck_ Harry. He’s just on that side of drunk where insecurities are thrown to the wind, so he follows up Harry’s words by repeating the motion, but this time harder. He definitely doesn't miss the way Harry rocks up into him, meeting him half way and swivelling his hips in little circle motions.

All of a sudden in dawns on Louis that they’re actually grinding. He’s grinding on Harry at a club, that’s a real thing that’s happening. With this in mind, he throws caution to the wind and just goes for it. He becomes every club cliche all at once, throwing back on Harry whilst running his hands through his own hair and then down his chest like he’s in a music video. He feels like he could be, like his life is one big Hollywood production at this moment in time, it’s the only logical explanation he has for how he’s managed to find himself in this god given position. 

It only gets more surreal when he feels the wetness of Harry’s lips just brushing against the thin skin at the bottom of his neck. It’s barely there, but Louis feels it clear as anything. It’s like Harry’s testing the waters, just letting his lips linger, giving Louis the chance to pull back if he wants to. Louis takes the opposite route, letting his head fall back and giving Harry full access to the long column of his neck. He can feel himself getting light headed with it, the anticipation of Harry’s next move. The want in his stomach and the slow heat starting to pool there.

It doesn’t disappoint. Louis feels himself go slack in Harry’s hold, Harry’s big hands around his hips and wet mouth on his neck the only things grounding him and keeping him upright. Harry parts his lips against Louis’ skin, lingering there like he’s contemplating what to do next. The room around Louis is spinning, the sea of people blurring and merging into nothing more than a haze of bodies moving together. It’s like him and Harry are a bright light in the midst of an open ocean, a lighthouse rising up above the waves.

“This okay?” Harry speaks into Louis neck, the feel of his breath making Louis shiver.

He lets out a feeble “Yeah,” tilting his head to give Harry further access.

His eyes fall closed as Harry begins to move up his neck, kissing softly over the skin. The music is ringing in Louis’ ears, heavy bass line vibrating the floor underneath his feet but all Louis can focus on is the sensation of Harry’s plush lips against the sensitive skin of his neck.

Louis feels him apply the slightest amount of pressure once he reaches the junction of his neck and jawline. He touches with the tip of his tongue, tracing a light outline of some nonsensical shape against Louis’ pulse that’s pounding in his throat. Louis lets out a ragged breath, arching back into Harry. He nearly passes out when he feels the hardness in Harry’s jeans press against the round of his arse. _Oh my god_ , this is happening. 

He wriggles back against Harry, circling his hips right over the now very obvious bulge in Harry’s crotch. He’s gotten Harry hard, Harry’s hard because of Louis, hard for Louis. The thought makes Louis’ own jeans start to feel tight, only worsening when Harry latches right on to the spot under Louis’ jaw, sucking hard and nipping at it with his teeth.

It’s getting a little too intense for a room full of people to be witnessing, especially when they’re world famous boybanders and one sneaky photo could fuck everything up, even if they are at an exclusive Vegas party.

With that in mind, Louis spins around, turning to face Harry. He looks him right in the eye and Harry looks _fucked_. There’s a sheen of sweat across his forehead, his pupils blown out and his lips all pink and shiny. If a little bit of grinding is all it takes to get Harry in this state, Louis can’t fucking imagine what he’d look life after Louis gets to have him exactly how he wants him.

“C’mon,” Louis whispers, taking Harry’s hand into his own. “Too many people here,” He explains when Harry shoots him a confused glance.

Harry catches on as Louis grips tighter on his hand, letting Louis lead the way. He stumbles a little as he walks, not really sure where it is he’s even heading. He’s relatively drunk and getting from place to place is serving to be a problem as the two of them bump into stools and bodies and doors, searching aimlessly for somewhere they can be alone. Louis is seconds away from giving up and jumping Harry’s bones in the middle of the dance floor when he bumps into none other than Taylor.

“Woah!’ She lets out, catching a hold of Louis’ shoulders and steadying him in place. Louis watches her eyes drift to where Louis’ hand is entwined with Harry’s, he doesn’t let go.

“Sorry,” Harry hiccups, Louis notices him pulling his shirt down over the waistband to cover the bulge there. Louis feels a little jolt of pride shoot over him, _he did that_. 

“Are you guys, uh…where were you headed?” Taylor asks them, turning her back away from the dance floor of people behind her.

Harry giggles, tipsy state getting the better of him. “Harry’s got a headache.” Louis interjects, raising his eyebrows at Taylor. “D’you know anywhere, erm…quiet I can take him?”

Louis pinpoints the exact moment when Taylor picks up what he’s putting down. “Oh,” She says, her eyes twinkling. “Oh! Yeah, I actually do now that you mention it. Um, it’s sort of…outside though. Is that okay?”

Harry nods next to him, squeezing his hand tight. “That’s fine.” Louis replies. He just needs somewhere he be can alone with Harry, just for a few minutes, away from prying eyes. He wants to take Harry home more than anything, but they can’t leave yet, the road outside littered with paparazzi. 

“Awesome.” Taylor grins, “There’s like a botanical garden type thing out back, it’s all fenced and shut off so you don't have to worry about anyone seeing you. It’s pretty, you’ll like it.”

“Thanks, Taylor. Thank you.” Harry nods at her, offering her a dimpled smile.  “You’re welcome.” She replies, taking his other hand and shaking it just once. It feels a lot like closure. “C’mon I’ll show you it.”

She leads the two of them through the crowds of people, stopping every few seconds to greet someone or offer a wave. It must be exhausting being so friendly, Louis thinks to himself, clutching tightly onto Harry’s hand and rubbing small circles with his thumb.

Harry’s got two drunken modes, Louis’ picked up on them over the years. There’s very loud, sloppy drunk Harry. Cuddling everyone in sight and singing on tables, dancing with his limbs flying everywhere as if they’re independent from his body. And then there’s quiet drunk Harry. Sleepy and all drowsy, soft and pliant and eager to follow wherever he’s lead. He’s the second option right now, letting Louis and Taylor lead him through the streams of people, just nodding happily at people who stop to say hi, holding Louis’ hand tight. Taylor leads them into a smaller room, there’s only a few dozen people mingling in here and it offers a relief from the mob of bodies Louis feels like he’s been swimming through for hours. They come to a halt in front of a large glass door that opens out into the gardens. 

“It’s just through here,” Taylor says, pushing the bar on the door and swinging it open. A cool breeze flows into the room, the sweet smell of pollen trickling in. “Knock yourselves out.” She winks, giving them a little shove forward. Out of all the weird, unexpected things that have happened in Louis’ life, being pushed into a botanical garden by Taylor Swift so he can hook up with Harry in peace is up there with the best of them.

“Erm, thanks.” He offers, “See you later?”

“Bye, boys.” She laughs with a wave, turning on her high heels and heading back to the party.

Louis swallows, feels the night breeze sweep over him and wrap him up like a blanket. It’s pitch black outside, nothing to illuminate the garden apart from a littering of lights hanging from a string, highlighting the foot paths. For a moment, Louis doesn’t know what to do with himself. He feels the dead weight of Harry’s hand in his, grounding him and giving him a sense of reality. 

Like Harry’s read his mind, he feels his fingers tighten around the back of his palm. “Lie down with me.” Harry murmurs, it comes across like a question so Louis’ answers it.

“Yes, please.”

Harry giggles at that, “Not here, though. Can’t see the stars.”

Louis looks up, they’re covered by a tall wood canopy tangled with vines and leaves, blocking the view of the sky. “Not here.” Louis repeats Harry’s words.

With that, he steps out from under the canopy, taking Harry with him. He’s not sure exactly where he’s heading, concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other and following the stone path that winds through the towering plants and flowerbeds. They walk quietly, like the fact that they’re hand in hand says more than words could. 

Louis feels Harry come to a halt next to him, “Here.” He says, voice soft. 

The path branches off in front of them, dispersing and leading to a wide expanse of neatly cut grass. A few feet along the grass stops and a large, circular pond takes it place. The ripples of water glow white underneath the moonlight, twinkling specks of silver from the shine of the stars.

He looks at Harry, and Harry’s already looking straight back. He remembers someone telling him once that it’s wise to fall in love with people’s eyes, because they never age. At this moment, he can see the truth behind the sentiment. It’s like looking right into the eyes of the sixteen year old boy he’d met five years ago. Vulnerable, honest and looking back at him in awe. And that’s what this is, isn’t it? Falling in love. He’s been falling in love with Harry for as long as he can remember, and he doesn’t feel anywhere near close to stopping.

Harry lets go of his hand, sinking down to the floor and sitting with his legs outstretched. He looks up at Louis, gesturing for him to join. Louis doesn’t take much convincing, lowering himself down to sit next to him on the grass. As soon as he gets there, he feels Harry reach for his hand, pulling it into his lap and interlocking their fingers. It makes Louis feel lightheaded.

“M’gonna lie down now.” Harry mumbles, blinking back at Louis.

Louis nods his head, slurring his words. “M’gonna join you.” He lets himself fall back with Harry, lining up their sides. 

Louis takes a second to look up to the sky, staring up at the scattering of stars. “Harry?” He murmurs, squeezing Harry’s fingers lightly. 

“Mm?” Harry responds, following his glance.

“I can see The Plough.” It’s staring down at him, clear as anything, like someones taken a pen and drawn the lines that connect the stars together. Like those stars are shining brighter against the dark of the sky than all the others put together.

“So can I.” Harry whispers back, stroking over Louis’ palm with his thumb.

Louis picks up Harry’s hand with two of his, bringing it to rest against his chest. “Can you feel that?” He breathes out, voice just loud enough to be heard in the quiet of the night.

Harry turns his face to look at him, so close that his features are blurred in Louis’ vision. “Feel what?” Harry asks, smile quirking at the corners of his lips.

Louis presses Harry’s hand harder against his chest, right over the dip in his ribcage. Right over the place where he knows Harry will be able to feel just how fast his heart is hammering against it. Harry flattens his palm there and Louis watches the grin spread across his face. 

Louis’ cheeks hurt from smiling as Harry brings his other hand up, grabbing Louis’. He holds it up before placing it against his own chest, mirroring the position Louis held his in. “Can you feel _that?_ ” 

He can. He can feel the way Harry’s heart is pounding, how quick and strong the rhythm feels against the flat of his hand. “It’s mutual.” Harry whispers, their faces so close together that Louis can almost _feel_ the sound that leaves Harry’s lips. _It’s mutual, it’s mutual, it’s mutual._

Louis lets out a soft whimper, curling his fingers into Harry’s shirt, tugging gently at the material. Harry adjusts his weight, motions slow and languid so that he’s resting on one side, supporting himself with his elbow. His body is turned towards Louis, looming down over him.

Louis’ breath catches in his throat when Harry leans down, running his fingers through Louis’ soft fringe. He tucks a long strand behind Louis’ ear, stroking along his jawline with his pointer finger. Ducking his head down, he places a gentle kiss at the bottom of Louis’ jaw. Harry’s voice is so quiet that Louis barely hears it when Harry breathes out against his skin, “You’re so gorgeous.”

He can’t formulate a response, the right words lost inside his brain. Harry’s fingers linger at Louis’ jaw, before he runs them up and across the line of his cheekbone. Louis keens in to the touch, shivering when Harry’s fingertips just shadow past his mouth before he drags them, slow and deliberate down Louis’ chest. He stops when he gets to Louis’ stomach, flattening his palm there and watching in awe at how it lifts up and down with every shaky breath Louis takes.

These soft touches, so slow and so gentle. So careful and tender, just absolutely in awe of each other. The contrast between the delicate way their fingers lace over each other now and how hot and full of need they’d ground against each other earlier, how both are just as good as each other. This is what people are searching for, Louis thinks. This is what people spend their whole life trying to find. And it’s been right in front of Louis’ eyes this whole time.

Harry’s mouth is still ghosting over Louis’ jaw, suspended there like he’s gathering up the courage to proceed. Louis takes a deep breath, moving his hand and cupping the back of Harry’s head with it, tangling his fingers into Harry’s curls. He can feel Harry shudder above him, pressing his lips back into that same spot on Louis’ jaw. 

Louis’ gets it. It’s so much more than kissing someone for the first time, so much more than making the first move or putting yourself out there. Once their lips meet there’s no going back, nothing’s going to be the same. It’s been building up for five years, bubbling violently and it’s about to erupt any time soon. People have been trying to silence it, keep it dormant, pull them further and further apart for so long that it feels monumental to realise that only _they_ have the power to decide what happens between them. 

“It’s okay,” Louis whispers into Harry’s hair, “It’s okay.” And Louis believes it, it’s okay.

He feels Harry’s hand leave the spot on his stomach, reaching out for his face instead. Harry cups the other side of his jaw, rubbing gently along Louis’ cheek with his thumb. He pulls his head up so that he can look at Louis directly. Their eyes meet and Louis’ can’t help but inhale sharply when they do, just taken aback by the way Harry looks right now. 

“Louis,” Harry lets out, voice all shaky. Louis wants to grab him, wrap himself around Harry and not let go, kiss him senseless until every insecurity and doubt is wiped from his mind. Louis loosens his grip in Harry’s hair, stroking the long strands that reach down the back of his neck. 

“What is it, Haz?” Louis breathes out.

“I really want to kiss you.”

And that’s all it takes, the break in Harry’s voice and the way he looks Louis right in the eye as he says it. Louis tugs at the back of his neck, pulling him down so their foreheads are pressed together. Louis snakes his other hand under Harry and around him, flattening it against his back and tugging at his shirt so that Harry’s almost on top of him. 

Harry’s fingers trail down the side of his face, stopping at his chin before Louis feels him gently rub the pad of his thumb over Louis’ bottom lip. He leaves it there, just the slightest amount of pressure. Louis swallows sharply before pursing his lips and placing a delicate kiss around the tip of Harry’s thumb. _It’s okay._

He can feel Harry trembling, his back shaking under Louis’ touch. And if he doesn’t do it now it feels like he might never get the courage to do it again. He stretches his neck up, bringing his face even closer to Harry’s. He takes a deep breath as he pecks a delicate kiss onto the side of Harry’s mouth, just getting the tiniest taste of the edge of Harry’s lips.

Before Louis can do anything else, Harry’s adjusting his position, rolling his body so that their torso’s are pressed together. He brings a hand up and cups Louis’ face again, but this time there isn’t hesitation. Louis’ thinks he should close his eyes, but he doesn’t want to look away from Harry. His face is so close now, iris’s almost glowing in the dark of the night. There’s nothing left for Harry to do but to connect their mouths, and that’s exactly what he does.

It’s like every cliche ever written, fireworks erupt and stars implode and waves break and crash over the spot where their lips are moulded together. For the first moment, they just lie there, lips on lips. Neither move because they’re smiling so much that they don’t know how to stop. It feels like all the tension, all the hurt and all the anger thats built up inside Louis over time is seeping out of him into the ground below him, dispersing into nothing. 

They start to move their lips together, just easy and slow like they’re treasuring every second they spend with their bodies connected like this. Harry’s lips are plush and soft and they’re even better than Louis could have ever imagined. He tastes like fruity beverages, sticky sweet against Louis’ mouth. 

Harry’s still cupping his face, his fingers clutching tightly and his thumb rubbing Louis’ cheek as they kiss. Louis tightens his own grip in Harry’s hair, remembering all the times he’s had his hand in this position before, all the times he’d wished his mouth was doing exactly what it’s doing right now. He feels Harry part his lips just so, the very tip of his tongue tickling against the seam of Louis’ lips. Louis tugs at Harry’s hair, bringing him closer to him, pressing their lips together harder, impossibly close. 

Their pace begins to quicken, the proximity of their bodies and the heat of skin on skin spurring them on. Louis lets his jaw go slack, lets his mouth open and gives Harry access to lick into it like Louis’ knows he wants to. Their tongues slide past each other and Louis’ entire body shivers when Harry flicks his tongue precise and purposefully. 

Louis feels his neck cramping from stretching up to meet Harry’s mouth. He rolls on his side, keeping their mouths connected and his hand in Harry’s hair. He uses his other to push against Harry’s chest, moving him so he’s lying flat against the floor. Harry goes easily, his body completely pliant, moulding to whatever shape Louis puts him in, and wow, that’s something Louis’ going to have to explore. Louis follows Harry’s body, lifting himself up as Harry lies flat on his back. He doesn’t stop kissing Harry as he moves, just replaces the deep and heavy movements with light little pecks against Harry’s mouth.

He slings a leg over Harry’s form, Harry letting out a choked breath into Louis’ mouth when his thigh catches against his crotch. _Fuck._ He tugs the rest of his body up and over Harry, supporting himself with his elbows bracketed around Harry’s head. The position gives him the ability to deepen the kiss and he takes full advantage of it, sucking Harry’s lower lip into his mouth. 

Harry’s hand run all over Louis’ back as they kiss, scrunching up Louis’ shirt in his fist when he bites at Harry’s lip. Louis gets goosebumps when Harry’s fingers slip under the material, snaking down his spine and squeezing at his hips. They wander further down Louis’ back, his fingernails just slightly scratching against skin. He can feel Harry tentatively getting lower, fingers ghosting ever so close to the bottom of his spine, inches away from where Louis’ wants them most. Louis quickens the pace of the kiss, sliding their lips past each other faster and with more determination. He flicks his tongue into Harry’s mouth just as he feels the tip of Harry’s pointer finger slide under the waistband of his jeans, resting on the swell of his ass. 

Louis lets out the softest moan he can manage into Harry’s mouth, like an encouragement to keep going, don’t stop there. Harry must get the message because before Louis realises it, Harry’s hands are right there. He’s cautious at first, just cupping his ass and running his hands over it, like he cant quite believe he’s allowed to. Louis kisses him harder, their tongues running together. He breaks apart from Harry’s mouth and whines when he feels him squeeze at his cheeks, drawing Louis’ body ever closer to him. 

“You’re, you’re-“ Harry’s panting in between kisses that he plants all over Louis’ face, “You’re so fucking _hot._ ”

Louis responds by dropping his weight from his elbows, just plastering his body over Harry’s, no empty space between them. He moves his mouth to Harry’s neck, licking a stripe up it with a pointed tongue before latching his lips against the skin there and sucking a reddening mark into it. Mine. He wants to do more, he wants to grind the hard line of his cock down against Harry’s, he can feel it pressing into his stomach and it’s driving him mad. Wants to unzip Harry’s jeans and sneak his hand under, feel the weight of Harry’s length in his palm. He might be drunk, but he’s not drunk enough for outdoor, semi-public sex, no matter how badly he wants Harry right now.

With this in mind, he takes his mouth away from Harry’s neck, smirking at the soft whine that leaves Harry’s lips when he does. He wriggles up Harry’s body until they’re face to face again. He stays there, just taking a moment to catch his breath and focus his mind. It suddenly hits him that this is their first kiss. His first kiss with Harry. And it’s not going to be the last. He looks down at Harry, his pupils are blown and his lips are swollen from kissing, hair all over his face. 

“Baby.” Louis whispers, the word just feels right slipping from his lips.

Harry blinks up at him, big green eyes all dazed and full of lust. Louis ducks his head down, kissing softly against Harry’s eyelids, over his forehead, the tip of his chin. By the time he reaches his mouth the two of them are smiling so much that their teeth clatter together.

“You’ve got such nice lips,” Louis murmurs when they break apart, stroking the pad of his thumb over Harry’s bottom lip. “Soft.” He pecks it lightly. “Can’t believe I’m kissing you.” He whispers into Harry’s mouth, “Don’t wanna stop.”

“Then don’t.” Harry gravels, running his hands down Louis’ back.

Louis’ chuckles, “You want me to kiss you forever and ever?”

“Mhm.” Harry nods, planting a kiss on Louis’ chin as if to prove a point. “Only stop for snacks and bathroom breaks.”

Louis laughs, stroking his palm across the side of Harry’s cheek before pressing their lips together again. They really do need to stop soon, someone’s going to come looking for them eventually. Security’ll be calling cars and they need to figure out how to leave together without making a scene. Louis doesn’t want to. He doesn’t want to sneak out the back door and call a diversion, doesn’t want to have to wait five minutes for Harry to walk ahead before he follows. He wants to walk out of here, into the crowds of paparazzi his hand in Harry’s. _Louis Tomlinson leaves club hand in hand with a beautiful brunette._ Put _that_ on the front page of The Sun.

He hears Harry sigh underneath him, breaking the kiss. “Fuck,” He grumbles, “My phone’s ringing.”

 _Leave it,_ Louis thinks. Instead, he rolls off of Harry, lying on his side next to him. “Y’better get it, probably important.”

Harry gives Louis a pouty look, rummaging for his phone in his pocket. Louis stays glued to his side as Harry answers. He runs his fingers along Harry’s chest, playing with the chain of his cross necklace, winding it around his fingers as Harry talks down the phone. 

Louis blocks out the conversation, not wanting to shatter the delicate glass walls built around him and Harry. Part of him wants to live inside them, not let anybody else in. Another part wants to invite the world in to see, show everybody just how good him and Harry are together, how great they can be.

“Hold on, let me just check and I’ll text you back in five minutes. Yes. I promise. No longer than that.” Harry finishes, hanging up.

“Everything okay?” Louis asks, nuzzling into Harry’s side and resting his head against his chest. He practically purrs when Harry brings his hand to stroke over his hair, flattening his fringe across his forehead.

“Mm.” Harry mumbles.

Louis kisses softly over his shirt, “That didn’t sound very convincing.”

He feels Harry’s chest rise underneath him as he lets out a small laugh. “It was security, they’ve got a car to take me back to mine.” He pauses, “I told them I was with you.”

Louis swallows, “Oh. What’d they say?”

“Paps have left so we can leave together. There’s, um, there’s room in the car for you, if you want to like…come back to mine, stay over. Only if you want to though, if you’re like-“

Louis takes Harry’s hand, interrupting his stumbling. He holds it, bringing it down his body slowly. He pauses, loosening his grip so Harry can pull away if he wants to. When he doesn’t, Louis presses Harry’s hand right against the hard line in Louis’ jeans. He hears him take a sharp breath before Louis whispers, “I want to.”

Harry whines, before tugging Louis back down into another kiss, mashing their lips together forcefully. They kiss like they’re hungry for it, like they’re trying to fit years of wasted time into one hot embrace. Their hands roam each others bodies, touching everywhere and just feeling each other. Relishing in the way it feels to _touch_ the way they’ve been imagining for so long, how it feels even better than they thought possible.

“ _Fuck,_ ” Harry exasperates again as Louis feels his phone vibrate in his jean pocket. _Has it already been five minutes?_ “Sorry, if I don’t pick up they might literally send a firing squad for us.”

“It’s fine,” Louis laughs, rolling off him once again. 

“Hi, sorry, yeah. Yeah, just the two of us. Okay, we’re on our way now. Alright, bye.” Harry grumbles into the phone before locking it and shoving it back in his pocket. “Um, we’ve gotta get goin’. Cars waiting out the back entrance for us.” Harry explains, sitting up right and brushing himself off. Louis widens his eyes when Harry adjusts his cock through his jeans.

“Are there, erm…fans or like, paps?” Louis cringes as he imagines pap pics of himself with flushed cheeks, swollen lips, tangled hair and an extremely obvious erection. 

“Nah,” Harry says with a smirk, obviously catching Louis’ drift. “S’just the driver. So, that means we can do _this._ ” Harry takes Louis’ hand before pulling the both of them up to stand. The sudden gesture makes Louis dizzy, alcohol and state of arousal getting him all lightheaded. 

“Do what?” Louis asks in a daze, straightening himself out. 

Harry swings their hands back and forth between them. “ _This._ Just be… normal.”

_You and Harry have never been normal._

“Nope.” Louis replies, popping the ‘p.’ “We’re not normal.” Louis shakes his head, squeezing Harry’s fingers. “We’re extraordinary.”

*

It seems to take a lifetime to sneak out of the back exit. They fumble through the club together, dodging conversation and keeping their heads down. Nobody stops them, either because they don’t notice them or because they can tell they aren’t in the mood to chat.

When they reach the back doors of the club, Harry’s PA is stood waiting for them, arms crossed over her chest. She greets them with a concerned look, clearly not oblivious to how flustered and spaced out they both look. Tutting, she opens the door for them. 

“The car’ll take the both of you to Harry’s. If you need to stop anywhere on the way, only one of you must exit the car at any one time and no stopping for fan photos. Social media is off limits as you know.” She raises her eyebrows, signalling to the driver to open the car doors.

“Fuckin’ hell,” Louis mutters under his breath, climbing into the car. “What is this, a bloody FBI mission?”

Harry chuckles, climbing in next to him. “Thanks,” He offers the PA, “We’ll be good.”

She rolls her eyes as she shuts the car door behind them.

“We’ll be good, will we?” Louis smirks, nudging himself up closer to Harry in the back of the SUV.

Harry pats Louis’ knee, looking down at him with raised eyebrows. “Depends on your definition of good.” 

Harry lurches forward and kisses him without hesitation. Fuck, does that feel amazing. Having Harry kiss him like it’s an instinct, without thinking about it first. He feels Harry sigh into it, deepening the kiss and bringing his hand to grip at Louis’ thigh.

When they break apart and Louis’ looks down at Harry’s hand, he goes all soft. His thigh is dwarfed by the sheer size of Harry’s long fingers. Louis’ll never admit it, but he loves to feel small. Loves the way oversized hoodies feel around his little frame, how light and tiny he feels when a security guard picks him up. The way it he feels completely immersed in Harry when he wraps his long limbs around him, cocooning him all safe and warm. He finds himself thinking about how it’d feel to have Harry loom over him, folding him up and pressing into him. 

Harry keeps rubbing up and down his thigh, digging the heel of his palm into it and then flattening it, stroking slow, wandering ever closer to the bulge in Louis’ jeans. Louis is aware of the presence of the driver, the partition is up, but he’s tipsy enough that if it was to be rolled down he might not notice. With that thought in mind, he takes Harry’s hand and lowers it back down his thigh, towards his knee. Harry gives him a questioning look, but follows the instruction and settles for just clasping his hand above Louis’ kneecap.

Louis leans in, putting his mouth against the shell of Harry’s ear. “Not here,” He whispers, letting his mouth drag against the skin there. Harry shudders under him, his head falling back against the seat. He looks ridiculously turned on, his breath coming out all shallow.

The thought dawns on Louis when he looks down at Harry’s crotch, how the material of his jeans is straining against his bulge. He’s been hard for ages, they both have. Louis could easily slip his hand into Harry’s pants and get him off right here in the back of the car. The driver wouldn’t be able to see what’s going on under the belt and as long they both keep quiet and a straight face, nobody would ever be able to tell.

Louis considers it for a moment, but it seems like a wasted opportunity. The first time he gets to touch Harry like that, the first time he gets to make him _come_ , he doesn’t want it to be quiet. Doesn’t want it to be reserved or quick or shaky. He wants to hear Harry, wants to hear his little moans and whimpers. He wants to see the way his face looks when he’s close, how his eyebrows would thread together and his jaw’d go slack. That visual is not something he’s willing to deprive himself of. 

With that in mind, Louis keeps kissing Harry’s neck, leaving little licks and nips all over the long column of it. He knows he’s being a tease, getting him all wound up, but he just cant help himself. It’s like all of this pent up energy has been trapped inside him, ready to burst and now Harry’s opened the floodgates he can’t hold it back. It feels almost surreal, he’s got his mouth on Harry, Harry’s mouth on him. He doesn’t want it to stop, doesn’t think he ever will. _I love you_ , runs through his mind on a loop, _I’m in love with you_. He thinks about saying it, just blurting it out, but it doesn’t feel like the right time. 

Louis sucks above Harry’s collarbone and his hips stutter upwards, searching for some kind of friction. It’s intoxicating, being so close to Harry when he’s like this. Louis’ never seen him this way before, never thought he would ever get to. It’s everything Louis could ever hope for and more, Harry’s so responsive, so eager and in tune with every move Louis makes. Harry lets out a quiet whine, lolling his head back against the headrest. The fleeting streetlights from outside douse his skin as they roll up slowly to outside Harry's house, coming to a steady halt. It’s pitch black in the car, just Harry illuminated, shining brighter than anything else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i was sooooo so nervous to post this chapter, so i hope it kinda lived up to what you were expecting! sorry to leave it on a litte bit of a cliffhanger ;)  
> i'm pretty sure there's no club in the entire world with a botanical garden at the back but this is a fictitious universe where taylor swift helps louis tomlinson hook up with harry styles, so there's that.  
> also, my tumblr is problematiclarry, come say hi if you'd like!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am soooo sorry this update took so long!! the real life louis baby drama totally killed my motivation to write anything and then my wifi got cut so i couldn't get online to upload this and basically everything was horrible. but yeah, sorry about that!

They stumble out of the car together, Louis feeling completely legless as he stands on the gravel outside of Harry’s doorway. It strikes him that he’s never actually set foot in Harry’s Vegas house before, it’s exactly how he would imagine it from the outside though, white and expensive looking, lots of glass. 

Harry waves a thanks to the driver before fumbling in his pocket for the house keys. Neither of them speak as Harry fiddles with the door, both caught up in the anticipation of what might happen once they get inside. Louis finds himself wondering if they would still have wound up in this position had him and Harry been completely sober the whole time. He bats the thought away, _of course they would._ This isn’t a drunken hook up, this isn’t some one time encounter they’re going to regret in the morning. It’s not.

Harry gets the door open and Louis steps into the house on auto-pilot. As soon as Harry’s got the door shut behind him he feels the weight of his bulky body hoisting him up and pressing him against it. Louis lets his head fall back against the door frame, wrapping his legs around Harry’s waist and gripping onto his shoulders. It’s hardly comparable but Louis can’t help but remember the first time he wrapped his legs around Harry like this, on the X-Factor stage on national television. Although this time it involves a little more heavy breathing and definitely more erections.

“M’gonna hurt your back.” Louis breathes into Harry’s ear as Harry gets to work peppering his neck with kisses.

“Worth it,” Harry mumbles, hoisting him further up and snaking his hands underneath Louis, resting them on the bottom of his ass to support his weight. 

Louis lets out a gentle moan when Harry brings their bodies closer and Louis’ clothed cock bumps against Harry’s stomach. When he realises there’s no reason to be quiet anymore, he lets out a louder one. It must get Harry going because he connects their lips again, licking straight into Louis’ mouth. Louis digs his fingernails into Harry’s shoulders, spurring him on. 

When they break apart, Harry looks him in the eye before squeezing his ass with both palms. “Bedroom?”

Louis just nods erratically, God, _fuck yes._ Harry’s going to take him to bed. Louis goes to unhook his legs from around Harry’s waist and drop himself to the floor, but Harry holds them there. 

“I’ll carry you.”

Louis can’t help but let out a giggle at that, “That’s a bit of a rom-com cliche isn’t it?” Harry pouts at him before extending his tongue and licking his nose. Louis squirms, giggling back at him and wiping his nose.

“Love a good cliche, me.” Harry responds, lifting him up from against the door so that Louis’ completely in his hold.

“C’mon then, get me to bed.” Louis winks before kissing away whatever it was Harry was going to say next. They stay there for a few moments, kissing. Louis thinks this might be a problem for them in the future, spending all their time getting distracted by each other. There’s worse things to worry about.

Eventually, Louis feels Harry move underneath him, walking forwards slow towards the stairs. Stairs. Louis wasn’t expecting stairs. He’s very aware that the two of them are still definitely tipsy and the thought of Harry trying to drunkenly carry him up a flight of stairs is more terrifying than sexy. 

“You never mentioned stairs.” Louis points out, gripping on to Harry. 

“It’s okay, I’m very steady on my feet.” Harry proclaims, putting a foot on the first step. Louis scoffs at that, a new born baby giraffe would be more steady on their feet.

“Harold, if you drop me, or trip down the stairs, just know I have a team of _excellent_ lawyers that won’t hesitate to sue.” 

Harry giggles, walking as slow as he can manage, carefully placing one foot in front of the other with such concentration Louis cant help but press kisses to the crease it causes in his forehead. 

Finally, they reach the top and Harry quirks an eyebrow up at Louis, corners of his mouth raised in an expression that says _told you so._ Before Louis can say anything back, Harry’s on the move again, heading straight for what must be his bedroom, _shit_ this is really happening.

Harry turns them around, bumping the door with his back. When the door swings open, Louis feels his mouth drop. The room is everything Louis would expect Harry’s room to be. It’s big and lavish, marble flooring with a kingsized four poster in the middle of the room. There’s all sorts of strange tapestries and paintings and collectables strewn over the walls, some arranged neatly on a large desk covered in piles of paper and a stack of journals. The opposite side of the room houses a ceiling to floor glass window that opens out onto a balcony overlooking the garden. 

Louis thinks he’s seen it all, that is until Harry walks them over to the bed, placing Louis down on the mattress. He lets his head fall back onto the multitude of pillows before looking up and _oh my god_ there’s a fucking ceiling mirror. _Of course there is._ Harry must catch his line of sight because when he bounds down next to him on the bed, he chuckles, “Cool innit?”

Louis pulls Harry on top of him, watching the reflection of it in the mirror. He swipes Harry’s hair out of his face, looking him right in the eye. “I didn’t know you had a ceiling mirror, but on some level I feel like I knew you had a ceiling mirror. That’s such a fucking _Harry_ thing to have.”

Harry laughs, putting his weight on his elbows and leaning down to kiss Louis’ lips. “S’fun for when you’re wankin’.”

Louis almost chokes on thin air, grabbing at Harry’s hips and pulling him in closer. “Are you trying to kill me?”

Harry takes Louis’ bottom lip between his teeth, tugging at it and then letting it snap back. “Nah. Fancy you too much for that.”

Louis cant get the image of Harry lying in bed, tossing in the sheets, gripping at them with one fist whilst the other works over his cock, watching himself in the mirror. Fucking exhibitionist. “Mm.” Louis mumbles, kissing over Harry’s neck. “You like watching yourself get off?”

Harry slots his thigh in between Louis’ legs, threading his fingers through his hair. “Love it.” Harry breathes out, twisting his neck to give Louis better access.

“Yeah?” Louis says, licking a stripe over the long column of Harry’s neck. “Bet you’d love it even more watchin’ me fuck you.” Louis doesn’t know _where_ that came from, it just slipped out of his mouth easy as anything. He cringes a little, fully expecting Harry to laugh at him or just clear his throat awkwardly.

What he gets instead is Harry rolling his hips down, a whiny “ _Louis,_ ” falling from his lips before he attaches them again to Louis’. Suddenly Louis is absolutely craving skin on skin, he feels like he’s itching in his clothes, skin fiery hot underneath them, every layer between him and Harry one too many.

He gets to work, slipping a hand up the back of Harry’s shirt, untucking it from his jeans. He brings one hand around to the front of Harry’s chest, feeling all over, his warm skin radiating under Louis’ touch. His hand wanders upwards and Harry mewls softly when Louis’ thumb just brushes over a nipple. Taking note, Louis rubs over it again, Harry’s breath hitching in between kisses. He takes the nub in between his thumb and forefinger, rolling it around and when he pinches just lightly, Harry lets out an unabashed moan into Louis’ mouth.

He uses his other hand to hitch up the back of Harry’s shirt, pulling at the front with the other. “Okay?” He asks, moving his mouth away from Harry’s for just a moment.

“Yeah,” He lets out, sitting up straight so Louis can tug the rest of Harry’s shirt over his head. Louis yanks it off, throwing it to the floor. He sits up, propping his back against the pillows so that Harry’s straddling his lap. 

Louis lurches forward, planting his face against Harry’s chest. He nibbles along his collarbones, licking a line over each of them. Harry’s watching his every move, looking down at him and cupping the back of his neck like he’s guiding him. Louis feels Harry’s hand just applying the smallest amount of pressure, leading him down. Louis gets the message and moves his mouth slow until he reaches Harry’s nipple. At first he’s delicate, just flicking the very tip of his tongue over it. Harry tightens his grip on the back of his neck. Louis licks at it again, this time with a much broader stroke. When he stops, he’s blows a cool stream of air over it, revelling it the way it makes Harry shiver underneath him. “ _Lou,_ ” He whines, rocking his body forward just so.

Taking pity, Louis sucks it into his mouth, using his other hand to rub at the other. Harry throws his head back as Louis sucks and licks at it, neck exposed and hair hanging long against his bare back. Louis pinches it between his teeth experimentally and Harry lets out a high pitched moan, curling his chest towards Louis. He does it again, this time harder, Harry grabbing on the back of his neck like a vice.

When Louis pulls off, Harry starts to scramble at his shirt, reaching down low for the hem of it. Louis helps him out, rucking the shirt up over his head and throwing it next to Harry’s in a pile on the floor. He doesn’t have time to do much else before Harry’s hands are on his shoulders, pushing him down flat against the mattress. Louis goes easily, letting Harry clamber back on top of him and kiss him all slow, tongue licking past his lips like he’s trying to taste every last bit of him.

He stifles a moan when Harry rocks his thigh right up against Louis’ bulge, grinding it there purposefully. It should make Louis feel incredible, but out of nowhere a sickly wave washes over him. Harry wants this, that much is obvious, but will he still want Louis when they’re both sober and wake up next to each other in the morning? Louis keeps kissing Harry, slowing the pace though. 

The feeling of uncertainty only intensifies when Harry starts to kiss down his chest, dragging his hands down it slowly. It’s just this is so important to Louis, this is so much more than a casual fuck and he can’t help that twang of self doubt in his stomach that says it might be just that for Harry. The times he’d let himself envision the possibility of sex with Harry, it’d always been this been big romantic gesture. It feels like he’s throwing it away, jumping at the chance for a quick drunken shag after the club. Harry reaches Louis’ waistband and looks up at him through his eyelashes, smirking at him all sultry before he moves his fingers towards the zipper.

“Stop.” Louis blurts out, slinging his arm over his face to hide his embarrassment.

Harry pulls away instantly, kneeling over Louis with his palms raised. “Are you okay?” His voice comes out hoarse in his throat. “Lou?” Harry questions quietly when Louis doesn’t respond.

Louis looks out from under his arm and winces when he sees Harry sat there, not knowing what to do with his hands. He’s frozen over Louis’ lap, biting his fingers with his eyebrows furrowed. “Lou, did I-”

“Harry, I’m sorry.” Louis whispers, his voice almost breaking.

Harry’s eyes widen and Louis can see him twitching, like he wants to lean over and hug Louis but he doesn’t know if he’s allowed. “D’you want me to leave?” Harry murmurs, hugging his arms over his bare chest.

“Fuck,” Louis groans, “No, no, no, Harry. No, I don’t. I’m sorry, please don’t leave.”

Harry slings his leg from over Louis so he’s perched on the bed instead. “Can, can I...can I come up there?” Harry asks, so soft Louis almost misses it.

Louis nods, “Yeah, of course you can, Haz. Of course.” He stammers, wrapping his arms around Harry as he fumbles over. Harry lies down next to him, their faces inches apart.

“What happened?” Harry whispers. “Was I goin’ too fast? Are you like, not...ready?”

Louis reaches out and strokes Harry’s hair out of his face. “You were perfect, you _are _perfect. That’s the fuckin’ issue.”__

Harry looks back at him bewildered, coaxing his fingers along Louis’ spine. “Um, I’m not...really following?”

Louis lets out a breathy laugh, “I want you, _so_ badly. More than anything. I want to have sex with you.” Harry bites his lip. “But I want it so bad it...it scares me. I don’t just want it now, I don’t just want to grind on you in a club and then go home and shag. I’m still a bit drunk, but I know I’ll still want this tomorrow. And the day after, and the day after that and probably every day until I’m ancient and cant get my cock up without a tab of V.” Harry snorts at that, still tracing his fingers up Louis’ spine. “And not just sex, Harry. I’m so fucking- I’m so...you mean so much to me and I’ve fucked it up once and I’m not gonna let it happen again.”

He watches Harry press his lips together, watches him stare right back at Louis. “Louis,” He breathes out, his voice faltering. “You talking about ancient cock should not have me near tears.” 

Louis lets out a shaky laugh next to him, “I’ve got a way with words.” He mumbles, drawing patterns in Harry’s bicep with his finger.

“You do.” Harry replies softly, “This isn’t just a quick shag for me. You aren’t that, you’re not even remotely close to that. I don’t know if you like, missed the part where I’ve been bloody pining over you for five years or something, but this isn’t a one time thing. When we wake up tomorrow, I’ll still going to feel the same way I do right now. I’m still gonna want to do _this._ ” He punctuates the ‘this’ with a soft kiss to Louis’ lips. “But if you’re not ready, if you’re not comfortable with taking it any further tonight, then we won’t and I’ll still go to sleep feeling the happiest I have in fucking years.” 

Louis thinks he actually feels his heart explode at that. He is so fucking in love with this boy. This beautiful, beautiful boy. As if to prove it, he connects their lips, holding Harry’s entire face between his hands, getting them as close together as he can manage. Their lips are pressed together so tightly it almost feels bruising when they move them against each other. Louis breaks the kiss, keeping his hands on Harry’s face and holding it still, just looking right into his eyes, making sure he’s real. 

Harry starts to smile, dimples protruding in his cheeks and Louis cant help but follow, breaking out into a grin.

“Stay?” Louis whispers. He remembers the last time he asked Harry to stay in bed with him, uttering these exact words. How fragile and worn they’d both felt. How drained of energy and empty they’d been, the way Louis had seen tears pearled on Harry’s eyelashes. It’s so different now, a world away from the grey bleakness they’d been surrounding themselves with. Louis’ feels like they’re emitting colour now, a million rays of brightness shining from within them.

Harry nods back at him, planting a kiss against Louis’ forehead. “I’m not going anywhere.” 

*

 

It’s silent in Harry’s room for a while, just the gentle ticking of a clock and the sound of their breath matching a steady rhythm. They kicked their jeans off, leaving them both in just their boxers. Louis’ got his arms wrapped around Harry’s waist, spooning him. It shouldn’t work because Harry is so much bigger than Louis’, but Louis cant resist the urge of wanting wrap himself around Harry, hold him in his arms and feel the warmth of Harry’s back against his chest.

He can feel Harry wriggling around, unable to lie still. His breath is shallow and there’s a thin sheen of sweat over his exposed skin. Louis strokes down Harry’s arm with his fingers, stopping when he reaches the hair tie tied around Harry’s wrist. He pulls it away, Harry lifting his arm wordlessly so Louis can take it off. With his other hand, he bunches up Harry’s hair away from his back and into a bun on top of his head. He ties it there loosely, before blowing a cool stream of air over the hot skin of Harry’s neck. “Better?” Louis whispers. Harry nods, breathing out shakily, still all squirmy in the sheets. Louis begins to realise what the issue is. Harry’s still hard as a rock, his cock tenting his pants. Louis’ hard too, but Harry’s situation actually looks painful. 

“Harry, are you, um...” Louis trails, feeling slightly embarrassed. He doesn’t really know what to say, he’s just told Harry he doesn’t want to have drunken sex and now he’s turning the attention back to his cock. 

He hears Harry swallow, fidgeting under his hold. “I can’t, uh, I can’t sleep when I’m...when I’m hard.” Harry whispers, sounding apologetic. “I can go and, um,” He clears his throat, “Take care of it in the bathroom.”

Louis gets an all over body shiver at that, the thought of Harry getting himself off just a few rooms away whilst Louis lays in his bed, hard as anything. There’s something in his mind that sounds even more appealing though.

“I’m sort of in the same situation,” Louis breathes out, just shuffling forward the smallest amount so Harry can feel the hardness in Louis’ pants against his ass. 

Harry inhales sharply, squeezing at Louis’ fingers. “Y’said y’didn’t want it now, you don’t have to Louis, I’ll take care of myself.”

Louis leans up, kissing the shell of Harry’s ear. “You could take care of yourself here, show me what you meant about that ceiling mirror?” It’s another sentence that just creeps out of Louis’ lips without him thinking about it first, it’s like Harry just draws the words right out of him.

“Yeah?” Harry whispers, rolling his hips back experimentally. 

“Mm, if you want to.” Louis responds.

“So badly.” Harry whines, just running the palm of his hand over his boxers, like he’s proving a point.

Louis mouths at Harry’s neck, placing open mouthed kisses just under his jaw. “You’re gonna touch yourself for me?” In Louis’ mind, it makes sense. He doesn’t want to touch Harry for the first time when he can’t get the full experience. He wants to remember exactly how he’ll feel under his fingertips, every touch. Remember the exact noises he’ll elicit out of him. The way their bodies will move together, how Harry’s skin will feel pressed against his own. Like this, they can both release the tension that’s been building up inside them for hours, can share it together, but Louis’ll still get to save those other experiences for when his mind is clear. Best of both worlds.

Harry rolls around in Louis’ arms, so that he’s lying flat on his back. Louis wriggles his body around so that he’s on one side, looming over Harry. He licks one filthy kiss into Harry’s mouth, tongues touching before lips do. Just as they break apart, the atmosphere changes for a quick second. Harry looks up him with wide eyes and parted lips, “Sure you’re okay with this?” He whispers softly.

Louis drags his eyes over Harry’s body, drinking in every thing from his long, long legs to the way loose strands of hair are falling from his bun and over his face. He strokes one away, letting his fingers linger on Harry’s skin. “More than okay.”

Harry breathes out heavily through his nose, his fingers digging into the sheets. Louis bites his lip as he watches Harry take his hand and drag it down his stomach slow, past the butterfly, fanning his fingers out over it. Harry’s going to give him a show, not like he expected anything less. When he reaches the thin material of his boxers, he doesn’t slip his hand under, just rolls his palm deliberately over the hard line of his cock. His hips stutter upwards to meet it, and Harry just presses down harder with his hand. 

Louis can’t do much but stare at this point, he lies on his side, alternating between watching Harry right in front of him and gazing up at his reflection in the ceiling mirror, can’t decide which is hotter. Harry’s breath is coming out heavy, his chest rising and falling in obvious motions, the roll of his hips making the mattress creek quietly. He’s alternating between pressing the heel of his palm and dancing his fingertips over the outline of his cock that Louis’ can see straining through his boxers. 

It’s actually making Louis wince to see Harry tease himself like this when he knows how hard he is already, how long he’s been hard for. He can’t help himself, just taking his pointer finger and hooking it under the waistband of Harry’s boxers. Harry looks up at him, bottom lip sucked into his mouth, cheeks flushed. Louis gives him a look of reassurance, pulling his finger outwards from Harry’s hips so it leaves a gap between the material and his skin.

Harry keeps eye contact with him, slotting his own finger in next to Louis’. He stops touching himself with his other hand, taking it and putting it down the other side of his pants. Louis’ lets his finger slip out, leaning back so he can watch Harry take them off.

Harry rolls the waistband down, slow and steady over his thighs. Louis holds his breath as it slips down that last inch, Harry’s cock practically bouncing out and bobbing against his stomach.

Louis’ eyes widen and for some unknown reason, he can’t help but let out a loud laugh. 

Harry gives him a bewildered glance, kicking his boxers all the way off. “Um...” He questions, taking his base into his hand and steadying his cock there.

Louis covers his mouth with his hand, “Shit, sorry.” He stammers through giggles. “I have no idea why I’m laughing, it’s just, you’ve got...you’ve got a fucking huge cock.” 

He watches Harry’s mouth rise into a smirk as he drags his hand up his length, slow as anything. “Why is my huge cock funny? You’ve, _ah_ , you’ve seen me naked before.”

“Mm,” Louis says, watching Harry’s hand twist around the head. “Not like this though. Not when you’re hard and all worked up for me.”

He watches Harry’s eyelashes flutter at his words, squeezing his base. Louis just catches him murmur “For you,” under his breath. It should feel sleazy, it should feel like bad porn dialogue. But the way the words leave Harry’s lips, how soft and tender he says it, the break in his voice, it’s so much more than that. Louis had never thought it possible to want to bundle someone up and kiss their cheek whilst simultaneously wanting to fuck the living daylights out of them, yet here he is.

Louis’ hand subconsciously wanders down to the increasingly obvious bulge in his own pants as he watches Harry work himself. His pace is still teasing and slow, lazy almost. Louis bites his lip at the way Harry’s long fingers wrap around his shaft, it’s overwhelming, everything about Harry is just _big, big, big_. Louis’ hand slips into his boxers at that, breath catching when he takes his cock into his hand.

Harry watches him from where he lays on the bed, licking his lips when his eyes reach Louis’ crotch. Louis takes it slow, dragging his hand up and back down under the cotton material. He keeps eye contact with Harry as he does it, matching his pace. “C’mere,” Louis breathes out shakily, gesturing with his other hand for Harry to get closer to him. Harry follows the instruction immediately, wriggling closer to Louis so that he’s lying right next to him on his back. He looks up at Louis with pouty lips, whole body shuddering when he thumbs over the head of his cock.

Louis’ cant resist the urge to loom over him and kiss his mouth, his pretty pink mouth that’s all swollen from where he’s been sinking his teeth into it. When their lips meet, Harry sighs into it, rolling his hips up in small fractions as Louis’ kisses him. It’s one thing to kiss Harry, another to kiss him when they’re both getting themselves off. It’s such an intense feeling, his hand dragging over his cock and his mouth sliding against Harry’s. 

Whilst they’re kissing and their eyes are closed, Louis slips his other hand into the waistband of his pants, sliding them down over his thighs and wriggling out of them. He can’t help but feel a little self conscious at being so completely naked, so close to Harry. Harry’s so unabashed in everything he does, stripping his clothes off and getting his cock out like it’s nothing. Louis’ always been more on the reserved side when it comes to his body. The way Harry drinks him in when they break the kiss, how he lets his mouth hang open as he drags his eyes over Louis’ body, definitely helps kick those reservations. 

“ _Fuck,_ ” Harry murmurs, breathing edging towards erratic. “God, Louis-”

Louis picks up his own rhythm, tightening his grip on his shaft and dragging his fist over it with more than just lingering touches. “ _Yeah,_ ” Louis gasps, daring to look up towards the mirror. The view is unreal, can’t quite believe that’s him and Harry he’s looking up at. The two of them naked and spread out on the bed, close as they can get, all breathy and hot, skin slick with sweat. 

Harry lets out a high pitched moan next to him, a muscle in his thigh twitching as he alters his pace, making it faster, letting his thumb slip over his slit. 

“Can’t wait to touch you, Harry.” Louis all but mewls, letting himself give in to the pleasure, working his hand over his cock as fast as he wants to go. “ _Ah,_ fuck. Get my hands all over you.”

Harry whimpers next to him, using one hand to pull at himself and the other to fist his fingers through his hair, bun almost completely fallen out. He’s flushed red, his neck all the way down to his chest. Louis watches the way his stomach muscles jump and flutter as he works. Takes in the way Harry’ll drag the upstrokes, firm and slow, pulling his foreskin over the head before rushing the downstroke with a sharp twist at the base. He keeps altering between jamming his eyes shut like he can’t take the pleasure, looking dead into Louis’ eyes or staring up and watching himself in the mirror.

“I’m, _ah,_ m’close.” Harry groans, quickening his pace even more, arching his back and rolling his chest. 

“Fuck, same.” Louis’ breathes, he’s been on edge for fucking hours, it feels incredible to finally get some kind of release. “You make me _so_ fucking hard, Haz.” Louis pumps his cock faster trying to match Harry’s rhythm. Harry cant stop moving, squirming in the sheets. He’s rocking his hips up and rolling his torso, tracing his hand all over his chest and over his thighs. 

Louis takes his free hand, extending it and cupping around the back of Harry’s neck. Even that one small point of contact feels gigantic, like a ball of energy exploding over the place where they’re touching. Louis pulls Harry in closer by the back of his neck, joining their mouths together again. It’s hard to focus on kissing when they’re both so worked up, they’re moaning into each others mouths, breaking apart every few seconds to swallow deep breaths. Louis can tell Harry is so, so close by the way his breathing is fluctuating, little shallow breaths coming out all hiccupy and big, sharp inhales that Harry has to turn his head to take. Louis’ feels it too, the pool of heat in his stomach rising and filling him up, expanding and only growing more intense. 

Their fists knock together, flying past each other with the speed they’re working themselves. Louis lets out a low moan at the thought of his cock sliding against Harry’s, rubbing against each other, getting all wet. He tightens his grip on the back of Harry’s neck, needing something to ground him, to stop him rising up from the bed and floating off. 

“Ah, _ah,_ ” Harry’s chanting in time to his strokes, it’s like music to Louis’ ears. 

“ _Yes_ , Harry, c’mon.” Louis coaxes, pressing his lips agains’t Harry’s again, not so much kissing as just licking past his lips, flicking his tongue sharp and precise. He feels Harry shake underneath him, jaw going completely slack, unable to even think about kissing Louis back. Louis’ looks up into the mirror, watching Harry fall apart. He’s quivering, fist flying over his cock, no real finesse or tactic, just trying to push himself over the edge. He’s got his eyes jammed shut, forehead creasing and eyebrows drawn together. There’s a series of mewls and whines falling from his lips as he gets ever closer. Louis thinks he’d be perfectly happy with this image burned into his eyelids forever.

“ _Ah_ , oh my god.” Harry cries, body flexing under Louis, hand not slowing for a second. Louis’ not fearing much better, vision going hazy at how close he is himself. He strokes his length on auto-pilot, too concerned with watching Harry come undone to pay full attention to himself. 

“ _Harry,_ ” Louis moans, tearing his gaze from the mirror to watch Harry close up. He takes in every last detail of Harry’s face, how flushed his cheeks are, the way he’s sinking his teeth into his bottom lip, the strands of hair that get stuck to his forehead because of the sweat thats gathered there. 

“ _Fuck, fuck,_ ” Harry whines, hips stuttering upwards and stomach muscles clenching, “I’m gonna come, _Louis._ I’m gonna come.”

“I want you to, _oh my god,_ fuck.” Louis chants, fist flying over his own cock, heat rising up in his stomach. “I want you to.”

And then he does. Harry arches practically all the way off the bed, his hips rocking up as he twists around in the sheets, babble of moans and cries falling from his lips as he shoots over his stomach. It gets all over his butterfly tattoo, all over his chest, all over _Louis._ And _fuck_ that’s almost enough to pull Louis’ right over the edge with him. He keeps touching himself as Harry comes, going so fast his fist is a blur. 

Before he knows what’s happening Harry’s kissing him, it’s all dirty, tongue and teeth. But it’s slow and it’s intimate and somehow it almost feels soft. It only takes Harry sucking Louis’ bottom lip into his mouth and biting down hard for Louis’ orgasm to hit him. 

He whines into Harry, crying his name out as he feels his muscles tense. It builds up from the bottom of his stomach, spreading all over him and Harry just keeps fucking kissing him through it. The tension snaps and Louis comes with a choked moan, spilling all over his hand and the sheets. 

Harry attaches their mouths again but they’re breathing so heavily that it just becomes a mess of mouths. Louis slings his arm over Harry’s shoulders, tucking him into his side and holding him there as close as he can get him. They stay like that, trying to regulate their breathing and come back down. 

“That was the best wank of my life.” Harry blurts out, dead sincere. 

Louis splutters, wrapping his arms tighter around him. “I’d have to agree with you there.” 

They’re sticky and hot and a little bit gross, but Louis wouldn’t have it any other way. Harry looks even more beautiful in a post orgasm daze, like he’s glowing. Louis flattens his hand on Harry’s forehead, wiping away a bead of sweat. “You look so pretty when you come.”

Harry bites back a grin at that, squeezing Louis tight. “You look so pretty all the time.”

“Way to one up me, Harold.” Louis giggles, mock offended.

“It’s true though.” Harry responds, shrugging. “Even now when you’re all sweaty and your hair’s sticking up everywhere.” 

Louis groans, “Don’t bring my hair into this.”

“I’m serious.” Harry smirks, “So pretty all the time.”

Louis responds by placing a kiss against Harry’s lips, it’s sweet and tender and he does it just because he can. He puts his head back on the pillow when they break apart, eyes threatening to close, orgasm knocking the strength out of him.

“Don’t fall asleep,” Harry whispers, “Not here, s’all dirty.”

“I don’t mind.” Louis mumbles, letting his eyes flutter shut.

“I’ll carry you to the guest bedroom if you want, it’s all very clean.”

“Will you sleep there with me?” 

“Obviously.” _Obviously._ It’s that easy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is a pretty short chapter so the next one should be up very soon, no week long delays this time i promise!  
> also i checked the original notes and i said that this would end up being around 45k which.....did not happen. originally i thought 45k was aiming high and now it's looking a lot more like it's going to end up at about 70k. i honestly have no idea how that happened, but yeah there's definitely a fair few more chapters to come :)  
> hope everyone is doin' good and managing to handle all this real life #drama. come say hi on tumblr if you like, i'm at problematiclarry x


	8. Chapter 8

When Louis wakes, there’s a good few moments where he all but forgets where he is, what happened the night before. His mind wakes up before his body and visions of last night flood his brain, Harry’s lips on his lips, on his neck, his chest. His hands all over his body, just touching everywhere. The words that had left Harry’s lips, _I’m not going anywhere._

And he hasn’t. Louis blinks his eyes open, vision focusing on the soft curve of Harry’s spine in front of him. Neither of them remembered to close the blinds before they fell in to the guest bed last night, the morning sun creeping in and drenching the room in a blanket of clean light. The cotton white blanket hangs off of Harry’s form, draped over his waist. His hair has escaped the bun, falling all over the pillow like a halo around his head. It’s quiet enough that Louis can hear clearly the pattern of Harry’s breathing, deep inhales and exhales, chest rising and falling with each. Nothing else interrupts the silence, just the ringing in Louis’ ears from the loud music last night.

It’s like waking up in a new age, like Louis’ life can now be divided into two parts; before kissing Harry and after kissing Harry. It feels like he’s suspended, lying here to next to him. Like he’s hanging on a wire, thin and easily cut. The moment Harry wakes up, the moment they turn to each other will decide whether or not he falls to the ground below.

He supposes the fact that Harry stayed in bed with him has to count for something, that fact he didn’t wait until Louis fell asleep before slinking away and leaving him with nothing. Harry could wake up and pretend nothing ever happened, ignore their naked bodies and shaky muscles. Laugh off last night, play it like a joke, the way they always used to when they’d toed that line into more than friends territory. 

It won’t be long before he finds out, if the way Harry’s muscles are starting to twitch and his breath getting lighter are anything to go by. Louis holds his breath as he watches Harry adjust his weight, eyes still closed, rolling on his side to face Louis. He keeps holding it as he takes in Harry’s features, in awe of the boy laying in front of him. He’s gorgeous. Always is. Harry brings his arm up from underneath him, swiping his hair off his face and rubbing at his eyes in a languid, lazy motion. His lips are a little chapped and Louis’ watches the way he moves his tongue out of his mouth, licking over them, leaving them wet and pink.

Louis freezes as Harry blinks his eyes open, he just lies there, staring at him. It’s like looking straight into an eclipse, knowing you shouldn’t, the sight too beautiful and rare to stop yourself. And this _is_ rare. Up until this point in time Louis has never witnessed waking up in bed next to Harry, but now it’s happening and Louis cant understand how he went so long without it. 

Harry scrunches up his features, Louis feels him stretch his legs under the covers. “Mm,” Harry mumbles, “Mornin’.” His voice is like gravel, rough and scratchy and it leaves his lips through a lopsided smile. 

It takes Louis a second to respond, trying to make sure words will come out if he opens his mouth. “Hello,” he responds, all high pitched and squeaky.

“Hi.” Harry grins back at him, “Time is it?”

Louis has no idea, time doesn’t really exist to him right now. “Don’t know,” he responds, biting his lip as he watches Harry comb his fingers through his long hair.

Harry yawns, covering his mouth with his hand and pulling the covers further up over him and Louis with the other. He looks directly at Louis, right into his eyes like he’s not afraid of what he might find there. “Can’t believe you’re in my bed.”

And that’s the moment, really. The way his voice sounds so soft, so full of wonder and awe. Like he’s just as ecstatic to find Louis’ stayed as Louis’ is to find he did. Like they’re on the same page.

Louis presses his lips together, trying to stop the smile threatening to tear his face in two. “Guest bed, actually.”

Harry laughs, “Details.” 

Louis reaches out, twirling a strand of Harry’s hair around his finger. “Harry?” He asks, almost whispering it.

“Yeah?”

“Can I kiss you?”

Harry’s face lights up, eyes shining in the warm morning light. “I was hoping you might ask that.” Harry murmurs, nudging himself closer to Louis. Louis beams up at him, tucking the strand of hair behind his ear before letting his hand rest against Harry’s jaw as he brings their lips together. 

Harry pauses just before they close the gap, letting out a giggle. Louis can’t help but giggle back, even though he doesn’t know what’s funny. “What?” Louis asks on a laugh, Harry’s breath tickling his chin.

Harry shrugs, smiling so wide his dimples are like craters. “M’just happy.”

Louis feels a surge of affection rush over him, like he wants to reach out and squeeze Harry, kiss him silly. And then he remembers that he can do just that.

Louis grins, titling Harry’s chin up and closing the gap between their lips. He can feel Harry smiling into the kiss and Louis thinks he could maybe live in this moment forever. Smiling and kissing and laughing together in bed, just the two of them, their very own sanctuary. He feels like they deserve it, like they’ve earned it. 

They break apart, Harry’s eyelashes fluttering with a heavy out breath. Louis strokes his fingers along Harry’s bicep, just the very tips, ghosting over his skin. Harry watches as Louis traces his fingers over the outlines of his tattoo’s. There’s so many new ones, ones that Louis’ doesn’t know the meanings of, never got to ask. It feels strange tracing his fingers over markings he barely recognises, isn’t that familiar with and then in the same breath touching along the lines of the star, the “Hi”, the _ship_. It’s like a visible reminder of much time Louis wasted keeping Harry at arms length. All the things he missed out on.

“Tell me about your tattoos, the new ones.” Louis whispers, stroking his thumb over the tail of the mermaid on Harry’s forearm. “Tell me what possessed you to get a naked mermaid etched onto your skin forever.”

Harry scoffs, smirking at Louis. “S’not _naked,_ that’s just what mermaids look like. Y’only see ‘em wearing bra’s on TV ‘cos boobs are so sexualised it’s PC to cover them.” 

Louis raises his eyebrows, covering the mermaid’s naked breasts with his thumb. “You’re all about that free the nipple life, then?” He flicks Harry’s nipple with his other hand, “Always got yours out.”

Harry laughs, nodding. “Could say that.”

“But still,” Louis says, looking back at Harry’s tattoo. “You’ve got a pair of tits on your arm forever.” 

“I do.” Harry nods, draping his other arm over the dip in Louis’ waist. “Tits are cool.”

Louis swallows at that, it’s an offhand comment, but it makes Louis’ think. It’s not like Louis’ needs to know, not like Harry is required to tell him, even. But there’s a part of him that’s deadly curious.

He leans forward again, just pecking Harry’s cheek gently. “So, unless there’s been some horrific misunderstanding,” Louis begins, clearing his throat, “You’re not, erm…straight.”

Harry snorts, squeezing Louis’ hip. “That would be correct.”

“D’you mind me asking, like, what you _are_? That is if you even, uh, know the answer yourself.”

Harry gives him a closed lipped smile, linking their ankles together. “I’m pretty sure I’m, um, I’m gay. I’ve never really been, uh, attracted to girls, in that way. Like, ever.”

Louis swallows, stroking his fingers over Harry’s one by one. “How long have you known?”

“I don’t know, I think, a while.” Harry bites his lip, “Like, when we did our first interviews, and all these people were asking us questions about dream girls, even back then I remember just making shit up off the top of my head because like, I didn’t even think about girls that way.”

Louis nods, pretending not to notice the way Harry’s blinking fast and his words are coming out shaky. 

“But, I think I sort of, brushed it off a bit. Pretended it wasn’t really there, y’know? S’why I never… why I never told any of you guys. I didn’t want to be, um, a burden or like, make a fuss.”

Louis’ heart feels like it a sack of bricks, it’s dropping in his stomach as he listens to Harry to speak. Everything he’s wanted to protect Harry from over these past few years is suddenly amplified and made a thousand times worse at the revelation. Having to constantly deny being a serial womaniser is bad enough without the added bonus of not even being into girls in the first place. Having to parade around hand in hand with a girl, kiss them in a lonely city, so far away from home, so far away from what’s really inside of him.

“I am _so_ fucking sorry, Harry.” Is all Louis can manage, putting his arm around Harry’s waist and tugging him closer. He can feel his throat burning, tears threatening to creep from his eyes. 

Harry shakes his head, furrowing his eyebrows. “It wasn’t your fault, Lou. And it sucked, like, so much, some of it. But things have been getting better. Like, I was gonna, um, I was planning on telling people soon, actually.”

Louis’ eyes widen, “You mean like, publicly?”

Harry shakes his head again, “Eventually I want to, but I was going to tell you and the boys before tour started again.”

Louis knows the next question he should ask, _have you always had feelings for me?_ , but he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to handle the response. He rubs up and down Harry’s back, stroking at his hair that falls over his shoulders. 

When Louis stays quiet, Harry speaks again. “What about you, what are you?”

Louis takes a deep breath, trailing his hand back to Harry’s bicep, pressing his fingers gently into the ship tattoo there. “To be honest, this has all happened _so_ fast.” And it has really, the realisation, the acceptance and now the resolve. Louis’ barely had time to stop and take it all in. “What you said, about brushing it off. I guess, that’s sorta what I did. But more, intense?”

Harry nods slowly, giving Louis’ hip a reassuring squeeze. 

“Like, I never…let myself even think about it properly. I just thought it was what everyone did, y’know? Like, everyone gets curious, everyone has those thoughts. And especially, cos I was with El, I never _had_ to think about it too much.”

Harry stays quiet, letting him speak. He’s listening intently, gaze focused on Louis’ eyes.

“What I’m saying is, I always thought being straight was like, the norm, the default. And that having a girlfriend made me straight.” He bites his lip, taking another deep breath before continuing. “But it didn’t.”

He feels Harry tighten his grip on his hip before stroking up his waist delicately with his fingers.

“Long story short, I think I’m, erm, I think I’m bi. I still find girls hot but I also find boys hot.” He looks up from under his eyelashes at Harry, “Especially one boy in particular.” 

Harry grins at him, opening his mouth in mock shock, “Who?!” He jokes, raising his eyebrows.

“Niall.” Louis deadpans, sticking his tongue out at Harry when Harry drops his mouth open, frowning at him.

“That’s mean.” Harry pouts, pinching lightly at his hips.

“Mm, it’s that Irish charm.” Louis smirks, leaning in and kissing the pout right off Harry’s lips. Harry sighs into it, moving his lips slow against Louis’, savouring every last taste of him.

Louis kisses Harry once on the chin before he leans back, hand still playing with Harry’s fingers. He thumbs over the silver rings that Harry always wears these days, feeling the cool metal under his fingertips. There’s so much about Harry that Louis needs to catch up on, so many new quirks and mannerisms he’s missed in the time they’ve spent at such a distance. Little things, like the rings and new tattoos that weren’t there before.

Harry yawns into his palm, rubbing his eyes after. “I knew a house in Vegas would come in handy, y’know.”

Louis furrows his eyebrows, he’d almost completely forgotten where they were, the BBMA’s last night, the rest of the boys locations. His mind has just been spinning Harry on a loop. Louis looks up at Harry, “What would we have done if you didn’t have a house?” He asks with a coy grin.

Harry shrugs, brushing Louis’ fringe back off his face. “I would have thought of something.”

“Really? Because you were _pretty_ drunk.” Louis replies, leaning his face in to Harry’s touch.

Harry’s quiet for a second, eyes just scanning Louis’ features. He shakes his head softly, “I knew what I was doing though.”

Louis swallows, taking Harry’s words in. He moves Harry’s hand from where it’s resting on his waist, before connecting it with his own on the mattress between them. He nods, “So did I.”

Harry sinks his teeth into his bottom lip, eyes wandering from where their hands are connected, up to meet Louis’. “I want _this_ ,” He whispers it delicately, gesturing towards their bodies lined up next to each other, hands intertwined. “If you do.”

Louis feels like screaming, like finding the highest rooftop and standing there with a bullhorn, yelling into the abyss. “Of course I do,” Is what he says instead, breathing it out like a weight off his shoulders. “Of course I do. Fuck, I really really do.”

“Come back to LA with me.” Harry blurts out, “We’ve got a few weeks before tour starts again, stay with me.”

Louis thinks about the alternate situation, how he was planning on spending the rest of the break. He has a flight booked back to London, was thinking about driving up to Donny for a few days.

Harry watches him contemplate, “If you’re busy, it’s fine. I just, I don’t want this to…go away. I don’t want to go back to how things were.”

Louis gets it, if him and Harry fall back into the same routine of spending their free time on different continents, nothing’s ever going to change. They have so much to talk about as well, so much to plan and decide and work out. It’s a terrifying realisation, it’s so much bigger than the both of them. They’re going to have to tell the label, PR and probably even Simon. Everything’s going to be different, the way they’re handled, how they appear to the public. Will the fans pick up on it? Will they realised something changed? Now that Louis thinks about it, the majority of the fans have thought something’s been going on between Harry and Louis for as long as he can remember, looking back it’s hardly surprising. And god, he’s going to have to tell his family. His mum and all of his sisters, going to have to hand them the burden of keeping it a secret. He’ll have to decide who he can trust and who he can’t, which friends are loyal enough to know. 

He realises he’s been quiet for a long while, occupied with his thoughts. Harry’s just rubbing circles into his hand with his thumb.He lets out a deep breath, “I’m really scared.” He whispers, wriggling himself closer to Harry.

Harry doesn’t speak, just pulls Louis closer in with his other arm, pressing their chests together. He puts his arm over Louis’ shoulder, cupping the back of his neck and winding his fingers through the fine wisps of hair. Louis buries his nose into the crook of Harry’s neck, breathing in the smell of last nights cologne and the sleep heavy scent of his skin.

“I know.” Harry mumbles, holding him close. “I am, too.”

“I wish we could just, like, stay here forever.” Louis breathes out, placing his lips against Harry’s collarbone. “Like, it’s so _easy_ with you, Haz. It sounds so stupid saying that after how long it took us to get here, but, just being with you is so easy.” It is, it really is. Like he doesn’t need to _try_ around Harry.

“We can take it slow, y’know?” Harry speaks gently into Louis’ hair, stroking it down against his neck. “We don’t owe anybody anything. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.” He pauses, adjusting his weight so they’re eye level again. “If you don’t want to make anything, um, official…we don’t have to. Can be like, our secret.”

Louis looks right into Harry’s eyes, searching. He doesn’t know how to respond, he wants it to be just for them, not let anybody else dilute it with ideas of how they _should_ act. But when he looks at Harry, the way he’s being so open and vulnerable now, he cant help but think about how he’s been living with the weight of a secret hanging off his shoulders for so long. The words he’d said to Louis that afternoon at the restaurant, _I want to be honest._

Louis shakes his head slowly. “I’m sick of secrets.”

Harry presses his lips together, smile sneaking out anyway. “I am too.”

Louis tilts his head up and kisses him again. He really doesn’t know how he managed to survive for so long without ever having met Harry’s lips, feels like he can’t go two minutes without it now. Everything feels so warm; the heat from Harry’s body, the way he’s holding Louis close to him as their lips move together. It feels safe and good, and Louis finds himself wondering why the rest of the world is fighting so hard to keep something as great as this from happening. Why he’d almost let them win.

He kisses Harry harder, one hand in his hair and the other cupping his jaw. He feels Harry’s arm around his back, pulling them in closer to each other. Louis lets out a heavy breath through his nose, tightening his grip in Harry’s curls and tilting his head back so he can deepen the kiss further. Harry lets him, parting his lips for Louis to lick gently past them. He doesn’t go fast, just tasting Harry, letting his tongue explore the inside of his mouth.

Harry’s fingers dig into Louis’ back as Louis sucks Harry’s bottom lip into his mouth, biting down on it with his teeth. When he lets it go, breaking the kiss momentarily, Harry breathes out heavily, pressing their foreheads together.

“Lou, you’re-“ He shivers as Louis runs his hand down his neck, “You’re gonna get me hard if we keep going.” 

“Is that a bad thing?” Louis smirks, kissing the edge of Harry’s mouth. Harry takes a sharp inhale, letting his head fall to the side as Louis moves to kiss along his jaw.

“Not a bad thing. Very good thing, just letting you- _mm,_ letting you know.”

“Think I might have found out meself,” Louis quips in between kisses. “Thanks for giving me a heads up though.” He licks over Harry’s Adam’s apple, “No pun intended.”

Harry chokes out a laugh, cutting it off with a quiet whine when Louis sinks his teeth into the delicate skin of his neck, flicking his tongue over it.

Harry lets himself roll onto his back, head resting against the pillows as Louis adjusts his weight, leaning over him. He looks down at Harry’s body, taking it all in. The crisp bedsheets are resting just over the jut in his hipbones, happy trail disappearing under them. His skin is like peaches, so enticing and sweet tasting when Louis licks over it. Louis watches the way his chest rises and falls with each breath, soft stomach and hard abs. The roundness of hips and the sharp lines that point down below the sheets.

Louis takes his index finger, tracing a line neatly over the very bottom of Harry’s stomach, revelling in the way it draws goosebumps and a shudder from him. Harry’s just watching from the bed, eyes hooded and lip drawn between his teeth. Louis draws his finger around the outline of Harry’s laurel tattoos, scratching his nail lightly.

“D’you know how hot these are?” Louis asks him, making Harry squirm when he reaches the bottom of the leaves. Harry doesn’t reply, just bucks his hips up a little into Louis’ touch. “Extremely hot.” Louis answers for him, taking a deep breath before shuffling down the sheets and licking a neat line over one.

“ _Lou,_ ” Harry breathes out, reaching a hand down and tangling it in Louis’ hair. Louis keeps going, planting small kisses along the tattoo’s, one at a time. Harry’s wriggling underneath his touch, pushing at the back of Louis’ head with his hand like he’s trying to get him closer.

Louis moves up Harry’s body, spreading his hands over his chest and touching everywhere. Running his fingers along the lines of Harry’s ribcage, fanning his palm over the butterfly and watching it shiver underneath him, digging his thumbs into the flesh of Harry’s love handles. 

He can feel himself growing hard, body reacting to every little noise that leaves Harry’s lips. The shallow breaths and quiet whimpers Louis can pull out of him when he touches him with the tips of his fingers. He looks down, over the sheets and grins at the way the thin material is starting to tent over Harry’s crotch.

With this in mind, he slides back up Harry’s body, pausing when they’re eye level again. He looks up at him through his eyelashes, eyebrows raised, smirking. “Your heads up.” Harry chortles, his raucous laugh high in his throat. Louis kisses it out of him, giggling with him when their noses bump together. When they stop laughing enough to kiss properly, Harry holds Louis’ face in place, licking past the seam of his lips and pressing their mouths together hard. It turns heated quickly, Harry running his hands over Louis’ back, pulling him closer.

Louis breaks the kiss, latching on to Harry’s neck instead. He doesn’t stay there long, moving his mouth southwards, down past Harry’s collarbones and onto his chest. “Do you like your nipples played with?” He asks because he doesn’t know, wants to know. Wants to know every little thing that makes Harry tick, give it to him exactly how he wants it.

“Yeah,” Harry breathes out, “Loads.”

“Had a feeling you might.” Louis giggles before thumbing over one. “Puffy.” He observes. Before Harry has a chance to respond, Louis leans down and nips at it, right over the sensitive bud. Harry’s hands go right back to Louis’ hair, pulling gently as his breath gets heavier. Louis licks over his nipple, teasing strokes with a pointed tongue, before sucking it right into his mouth.

Harry lets out a proper moan at that, low in his throat. Louis looks up at him, the way his head is slung back, sharp jawline exposed. He keeps sucking, flicking his tongue against the nub and nipping gently. He uses his free hand to roll the other between his thumb and forefinger, alternating between little pinches and slow pulls. Harry’s winding his fingers in Louis’ hair, pulling him closer and pushing him away, like he can’t decide if it’s too much or not enough.

Louis decides for him, taking his mouth away and blowing cool air over the slick, wet pink of Harry’s nipple. Harry groans, muscles in his stomach jumping. “ _Fuck,_ ” He exhales, tipping Louis’ chin up to meet his eye. “For future reference, I _really_ like that.”

Louis raises an eyebrow at him, “Future reference, hm?” 

“Might be up for a second date after this.” Harry grins, leaning forward and pecking his lips. 

“Wanking with someone counts as a first date in your eyes? What fantastic standards.” Louis smirks before copying Harry’s gesture and kissing his mouth quickly.

“Hey, I’m easily pleased.” Harry replies, eyes drifting briefly down to his bulge hidden by the sheets.

Louis follows his gaze, “Oh, s’that so?” He outstretches his palm, running it right down Harry’s chest, feeling the muscles twitch underneath his touch. He stops when he reaches the place on Harry’s body where the sheet begins. It’s right under the jut in his hipbones, just a few dark hairs visible above the sheets. Louis taps the tips of his fingers there, just running them along the line where it ends. 

Harry’s watching him intently, fingers drawing lazy patterns into Louis’ back. Louis wriggles down the mattress until he’s eye level with Harry’s hips. He swallows, looking up at Harry before putting his mouth where his fingers once were. 

Harry inhales sharply above him, hips stuttering upwards to meet Louis. Louis uses his hands to push them back down against the mattress, holding Harry there whilst he mouths along the pale skin of the bottom of his stomach. 

Harry whines softly above him when Louis nibbles at his hipbone, sucking a mark there. When he’s done, he uses his tongue to lick a stripe over the delicate, thin skin that’s just about peeking out from the bedsheets. Just for good measure, Louis bites at Harry’s other hipbone, using his hand to reach up and pinch his nipple between his fingers. 

“Fuck, Louis.” Harry moans, hips rolling upwards again. “ _Tease._ ” 

“M’just gettin’ you in the mood.” Louis shrugs, looking up at Harry, angelic expression.

“I appreciate the sentiment, but I am very much in the mood already.” Harry replies, sucking in a breath when Louis kisses along his happy trail.

“Yeah?” Louis asks, letting his fingers just dip underneath the sheet.

“ _Yes._ ” Harry almost hisses, head falling back against the pillow.

Louis bites his lip steadily, looking up at Harry. With a deep breath, he snakes his hand further under the covers, breath catching in his throat when he feels the heavy line of Harry’s erection brush against his fingers. He feels Harry twitch below him, sucking in a sharp breath at Louis’ touch. 

Louis lets his hand travel further down before taking the plunge and wrapping his palm around the base of Harry’s hard cock.

“ _Ah,_ ” Harry breathes, chasing Louis’ touch and fucking up into his fist. It suddenly dawns on Louis that this is the first time he’s ever had a dick in his hand that wasn’t his own. The thought unnerves him for a moment, is he going to be any good at this at all? He drags his hand up and down Harry’s length in one quick motion, just getting a feel for it. Experimentally, he pulls back Harry’s foreskin, swiping a thumb over the slit. Harry chokes back a moan, rocking his hips up and slinging an arm over his face. Interesting. 

Louis keeps going, building up a rhythm. Fast upstroke, slow and heavy downstroke, twist at the bottom. He’s not sure what to do with his mouth, so he presses it into Harry’s hip, sucking at the skin there whilst he works his cock.

He feels Harry’s hands in his hair, twisting it between his fingers and pulling at loose strands. “Feels so good.” Harry gets out between heavy breaths, rolling his hips up slow to meet Louis’ hand. It knocks the sheet down, exposing Harry’s cock, Louis’ hand fisting over it.

Louis finds himself mesmerised, watching the way he’s dragging his hand up and down Harry’s length, how big and thick it looks in his palm. How it’s starting to get all wet at the tip. Louis wants to taste it, taste Harry on his tongue, feel the heavy weight of him inside his mouth.

With this in mind, he moves his mouth from Harry’s hip, kissing lower and lower until he’s almost at the base of Harry’s cock. He looks up at Harry, meeting his eye. “Can I suck you off?”

Louis nearly blushes at the way Harry’s eyelashes flutter shut, teeth sinking into his bottom lip at his words. 

“Yeah, yeah. Definitely.” Harry responds slowly, flipping his head forward and brushing his hair back with his palm. “I’d love that.”

Louis breathes in, nodding. He keeps jerking Harry slow with his hand as he places gentle kisses at the trimmed hairs around the base of his cock. Harry hums above him, both arms resting above his head, watching Louis work.

Louis steadies Harry’s cock, holds it up right and hovers near it with his mouth. When he breathes out, his warm breath must tickle over the head, Harry’s muscles twitching. “I’ve, erm, I’ve never done this before.” Louis swallows, adjusting so that he’s lying next to Harry on his stomach, elbows supporting his weight.

“Just, take it easy.” Harry says, voice shuddering slightly when Louis takes hold of his cock again. “Don’t worry about tryin’ to like, deep throat me or anything like that.”

Louis raises his eyebrows, “Are you doubtin’ my deep throat skills?” He’s always been a touch on the competitive side. Before Harry has a chance to respond, Louis pulls his foreskin back, wetting his lips with his tongue before placing a chaste kiss on the head of Harry’s cock.

Harry automatically rocks his hips up, moan escaping his lips. Louis pulls back a little, taken aback by Harry’s reaction.

“Shit, sorry.” Harry breathes, “Hard to keep still.”

“Yeah?” Louis asks, dragging his fist slow over Harry’s cock. He brings his other hand up, placing it on Harry’s hip before pressing it down into the mattress, holding him there. “Better?”

“Mm,” Harry hums, his skin white hot under Louis’ touch.

Louis kisses Harry’s tip again, salty under his lips. Harry doesn’t buck up this time, just whines high in his throat. Louis keeps his mouth there, flicking his tongue out over Harry’s slit.

“ _Fuck,_ ” Harry breathes out heavily, taking a hand away from his face to wind it in Louis’ hair.

Louis takes this as a hint to get moving. He swallows, mentally preparing himself. Harry’s really fucking big. Like, _really_ fucking big. Louis doesn’t know how he’s going to fit so much as the first few inches in his mouth. 

Harry’s stroking at the back of his head, reassuring brushes over his hair. When Louis looks up at him, Harry gives him a small smile. “You alright down there?”

Louis nods, “Any tips you can offer? Apart from this one.” He smirks, running his thumb over the head.

Harry inhales sharply, “ _Ah_ , just- just think about what its like when someone does it for you. What you like, how it, _mm,_ how it feels.”

“Noted.” Louis replies. With that, he gets his head back down, holding Harry’s base in his fist. Taking a deep breath, he flattens his tongue, dragging it from bottom to top. He feels Harry’s hips stutter under his hold, breath heavy. When he reaches the tip, he sucks it right into his mouth, suckling at it softly whilst he uses his hand to work over the rest of Harry’s cock. 

“ _Yeah,_ ” Harry mewls, tightening his grip in Louis’ hair. Louis breathes out through his nose, looking up at Harry from under his eyelashes. He’s got his head thrown back, curls spilling everywhere. He’s starting to get sweaty, slick sheen spreading over his chest.

Louis tries to relax his throat, hollowing his cheeks as he inches his mouth further down Harry’s cock. It’s heavy on his tongue, so hard in his mouth. He begins to bob his head slowly, just over the first few inches, sucking hard and using his hand for the rest.

He feels Harry’s hand slip from his hair, running over the side of his face instead. It comes to rest against his cheek, Harry’s fingers trailing down to touch over where his cock is hitting the inside of Louis’ mouth. Just feeling himself inside. 

It spurs Louis on to take more of Harry, wants to make him feel amazing. He pops off for a moment, catching his breath, a thin trail of saliva connecting his puffy lips to the head of Harry’s cock. 

“Doin’ so good.” Harry shudders, running a hand through his own hair, brushing it back off his face.

Louis keens at the compliment before diving back down, this time taking Harry into his mouth without hesitation. He goes slow, breathing out through his nose as he sucks Harry down. The corners of his mouth stretch and he feels Harry wriggling under him, trying to keep still, little whines falling from his lips. Louis splutters, pulling off when he tries to sink down that extra inch too far. “Sorry,” He coughs, wiping spit from his mouth with the back of his hand.

Harry hums, fingers tracing over Louis’ shoulders. “That was kind of hot.”

Louis raises his eyebrows, mouth changing to a smirk. “I almost choked on your dick, you sadist.”

Harry grins back, reaching down to swipe his thumb over Louis’ lip. “Not my fault you looked good doing it.”

Louis licks Harry’s thumb, biting softly on the end of it before Harry moves it away. It goes back to rest in Louis’ hair, and Louis feels just the slightest pressure there, pushing him back to where Harry wants his mouth the most.

He goes easily, mouthing along the base of Harry’s cock, licking teasingly with the tip of his tongue. He follows a vein that runs from top to bottom, feeling Harry shiver under him as he reaches the head. Louis digs his fingers into Harry’s hip as he runs as figure of eight over the tip before sucking it into his mouth, latching on tight like a vice. 

“ _Louis,_ ” Harry moans, loudly now. That’s definitely a sound Louis can get used to. 

He keeps going, bobbing his head up and down faster now, swirling his tongue inside his mouth. The sound of wet slurping and Harry’s heavy breathing fills the room, he’s letting out soft mewls and high whines on every out breath and it’s driving Louis crazy. His own cock is throbbing for attention, catching every now and then on the sheets as he moves.

He’s building up a rhythm steady enough, keeping enough of Harry’s cock in his mouth that he doesn’t need to use his hand to keep it there anymore. He lets go of Harry’s length, letting it rest against his stomach before ducking his head back down and sucking it past his lips again.

Harry runs his hands all over Louis’ shoulders and through his hair, gripping tight and scratching his nails as Louis works. When Louis takes his hand and reaches under Harry, cupping his balls, Harry digs his fingers right into Louis’ back muscles letting out a heavy “ _ah_.”

Louis rolls them in his palm whilst he sucks Harry, mouth getting further and further down his cock with each bob of his head. 

“Oh my god, keep doing that.” Harry chokes out, muscles in his stomach jumping when Louis hollows his cheeks, dragging his mouth up slow and flicking his tongue against Harry’s shaft.

Louis takes note, repeating the action over and over until Harry is squirming underneath him. He takes his hand away from Harry’s balls, planting both his palms on Harry’s hips in an attempt to hold him still as he sucks. 

Harry’s hands are in his hair, his fingers shaky as he winds them through the long strands at the back. He’s being so loud, shamelessly so, every out breath has a moan attached to it, like Harry’s just completely losing himself in the feel of Louis’ mouth.

Louis pulls off almost completely, just hovering over the head. He looks up at Harry, meeting his eyes and raising an eyebrow mischievously. Slowly, he wraps his mouth around the head of his cock. He swallows once before starting to move down, blinking slowly and breathing out through his nose. His hands are clutching onto Harry’s hips, steadying both himself and Harry as he keeps dragging his mouth down slow.

Harry whines above him, stomach muscles flexing. Louis looks up at him from around his cock, a steady glare that reads _stay still._ Harry understands, doesn’t stutter his hips upwards although Louis can tell he’s desperate to.

Louis keeps going, keeps moving his mouth down, lips pressed tightly together, sucking hard. He can feel his mouth stretching as he starts to reach the thicker base of Harry’s cock. Louis does his best to relax his throat muscles, ignoring the burn he begins to feel there and the way the corners of his eyes prickle in his attempt not to gag. 

Harry mewls, keeping his hands out of Louis’ hair and winding them through his own instead, pulling it back out of his face so he can watch Louis taking him.

Louis splutters a little, saliva dripping down Harry’s length as he swallows another inch. It’s getting hard to move any further down, Harry’s thickness straining his throat. He wants to do this though, wants to give Harry the best blow job of his fucking life. He’s a perfectionist.

Finally, he feels his nose pressing against the soft skin of Harry’s abdomen, thin layering of hairs tickling.

“Jesus christ,” Harry moans, grasping at the sheets with his hands, bunching them up trying to get some kind of release. 

Louis does his best to smirk with a mouth full of cock, squeezing Harry’s hips tightly, digging his thumbs in to the soft flesh there. Louis stays there, keeps his mouth exactly where it is and just _sucks,_ swirling his tongue around alternating between quick flicks and broad licks. Harry’s breathing is erratic, shallow breaths and little high pitched moans. Louis can feel his eyes starting to water at the effort of having Harry so low in his throat, gag reflex beginning to kick in when Harry’s body shudders the smallest amount. 

He tightens his lips, hollows his cheeks as much as he can before he slowly begins to move his mouth back up Harry’s length, drag and wet friction from his tongue and lips making Harry shake underneath him. He keeps going, taking his mouth all the way from the bottom of Harry’s shaft right to the tip. It’s such an intense suction, Louis gives it everything he’s got and its worth it to see Harry completely fall apart under his touch. He’s writhing around, choked breaths and senseless moans as Louis reaches the head. 

Harry lets out a long, low moan as Louis pulls off with a satisfying wet pop. Louis catches his breath, placing a delicate little kiss to Harry’s tip like he hadn’t just sucked the life out of him via his cock. 

“Louis. Don’t stop, _please._ ” Harry whines, completely out of breath. 

“Mm, wasn’t planning on it.” Louis murmurs quickly under his breath before ducking his head back down and sucking Harry straight back in again. Now he’s got the technique, it’s easier to repeat it, easier to get down further without coughing or spluttering. He keeps bobbing his head, getting lower each time but using his hand at the base to make it easier on his throat. 

Louis feels Harry’s hands scrape at his scalp, pulling him up to eye level. “Lou, m’close.” He whimpers, rolling the muscles in his stomach.

Louis keeps going, ignoring Harry’s warning. He wants to make Harry come, _god_ does he want to make Harry come. He quickens his pace, twisting his wrist and working his mouth as fast as he can manage. He clutches on to Harry’s thigh with his other hand, digging his fingers in and leaving whitening marks there.

“ _Ah,_ Louis.” Harry moans, “I’m- _fuck_ , I’m really- I’m _so_ close. You don’t have to-“

“Want to.” Louis manages to mumble around Harry’s cock, not slowing his pace for a second. Louis can feel Harry starting to lose it, the way he tastes saltier, how rock solid he feels in his mouth, how he can’t keep still for a second, muscles jumping and flexing.

Louis licks right into his slit, sharp and pointed tongue. Louis feels all Harry’s limbs tighten, his thigh tensing under Louis’ fingers. A stream of hurried “ah’s” tumble from his lips as Louis keeps bobbing his head over his cock. 

Harry’s hand reach out to grab whatever they can of Louis, frantically running over his hair and the back of his shoulders, gripping at his back. Louis barely has to move his mouth, Harry just fucking up into it like he can’t stop.

“ _Louis,_ ” Harry moans as his body goes completely tense all over, his thighs shaking and head falling back again the pillows. His eyebrows furrow and his mouth falls slack, plump lips all glistening and wet from where he’s been chewing on them. “ _Ah,_ I’m gonna come.”

Louis swallows him down once more, almost right to the base before dragging his lips up tight as a vice, and that’s what does it. 

“ _Fuck,_ ” Harry cries, back arching right off the bed as Louis feels the first spurts of come shoot into the back of his throat. Louis doesn’t know exactly what he was expecting someone coming in his mouth to feel like, but this tops anything he could have imagined.

He grasps at Harry’s hips, steadying him as his orgasm ripples through him in waves, leaving him twitching and shaking all over. Louis keeps his mouth on Harry’s cock, sucking him steadily through it as he feels Harry melt into the mattress. 

“Oh my god, _Lou._ ” Harry manages to get out, throwing an arm over his face, chest heaving with heavy breaths. 

Louis pulls off, letting Harry’s cock slump back against his hipbone. He crawls up Harry’s body, plastering himself over his torso, hands either side of his face. Harry looks up at him, pupils blown and cheeks flushed red. 

“You are, _literally_ , amazing.” Harry croaks out, voice shot from the high pitched moans and babbles. 

Louis shrugs, pursing his lips. “Eh, I try.” 

Harry grips the back of his head, pulling him down into a hungry kiss. Louis’ always been one for kissing after exchanging bodily fluids, he’s ecstatic to find that Harry appears to be to. 

Harry licks into his mouth, like he’s trying to taste himself on Louis’ tongue. It’s all lazy and languid, slow drags of lips and long, wet licks. Louis finds himself subconsciously grinding slowly into Harry’s thigh, his cock severely neglected of attention. 

Harry notices right away, sitting himself up whilst slinging an arm over Louis and changing their positions, so that Louis is flat on the bed. He doesn’t waste any time, kissing a steady line down Louis’ chest. When he reaches it, he pays special attention to Louis’ soft stomach, mouthing over the golden skin there and nibbling at his hipbones. 

Louis’ breath catches when Harry starts to nose around the hair at the bottom of his cock. Harry looks up from where he’s lying. “Okay?”

Louis just nods back, anticipation of whats to come diluting his brain and washing away any sensical speech patterns.

He has to close his eyes for a second when Harry holds out his hand in front of his face, sucking along each long digit and licking a fat stripe over his palm, getting it nice and wet. He almost blanks out when Harry wraps his wet hand around Louis’ cock, just holding it there for a second before he starts to drag his palm up and down.

It feels like every inch of his skin prickles, every hair stands on end as Harry slowly begins to jerk him off. He’s kissing at Louis’ hips, sucking a mark there as he uses his hand to move up and down his shaft. It’s almost too much and Harry’s only just getting started. He’s so hard already he feels like he could come within seconds of Harry’s hand wrapped around his cock.

“I’m not gonna last long.” Louis warns him, voice shaky and eyes rolling back in his head when Harry twists his wrist at the base.

Harry just looks up at him, curls falling in front of his face. Louis reaches down with a shaky hand and tucks them back behind his ears. 

“Oh, wait a second.” Harry mumbles, sitting up on his knees.

Louis watches him from where he’s lying, unable to do much else but gawk at his naked body. He grins as Harry pulls a hair tie from around his waist, flipping his head forward and bunching up his hair before tying it back on top of his head. 

Harry looks down at him, smirking. “Gets in the way otherwise.”

Louis doesn't have much chance to reply before Harry is diving back down into his lap, taking him into his hand straight away. He stokes him a few times, nice and slow, building his rhythm back up. Louis has received a fair few hand jobs in his time, but nothing compares to this. Everything is amplified by the fact that it’s Harry doing it to him, Harry’s hand stroking him up and down, Harry’s breath tickling at his hipbone, just _Harry Harry Harry._

He looks down, watches Harry lick his lips, steadying Louis’ cock in his hand. Louis wriggles up a little, putting his weight on his elbows so he can watch every move Harry makes. He nearly chokes on air when Harry takes his cock and presses it against his puffy pink mouth, just softly bouncing it against his pouty bottom lip.

“Now who’s the fuckin’ tease?” Louis squeaks out, gripping the sheets with one hand as he feels Harry slide the tip of his cock against the closed seam of his lips.

Harry just responds by opening his lips, sucking Louis’ tip in-between them and flicking with his tongue. Louis throws his head back, low moan in his throat. 

Harry takes a moment to pay special attention to the tip, sucking and licking at it whilst he jerks with his hand. And it shouldn’t be beautiful, not really. People don’t write sonnets about blow job lips, Louis thinks maybe he should start. It’s just everything about Harry and the way he looks right now. How his plump lips are swollen and almost lipstick red, the way they contrast against the delicate paleness of his face, shining in the light of the morning. How his eyes are closed, eyelashes long and resting against his skin, angelic almost. 

“You’re gorgeous.” He whimpers out, under his breath. It’s probably embarrassing but Louis is just a bit too far gone to care.

Harry takes him down further, meeting his hand with his mouth now. He’s quickening his rhythm, working Louis faster and with so much enthusiasm it makes Louis melt. He feels boneless, like jelly. 

He can’t help but rock his hips up, thrusting slowly into Harry’s mouth. Harry doesn’t seem phased, doesn’t splutter or cough, just keeps sucking. Louis feels Harry reach back and grab at his ankle, propping it up so that it’s digging into the mattress. He goes to reach for the other one when Louis gets the idea. Louis bends his other leg at the knee, so he’s bracketing Harry in-between them. It gives him better leverage to thrust upwards into Harry’s mouth, something he takes full advantage of. 

Harry snakes his hands up Louis’ chest from between his legs, dragging his palms up and thumbing over his nipples. Louis practically shakes underneath his touch, high pitched moans falling shamelessly from his lips in time with each thrust into Harry’s mouth. 

He doesn’t feel like he’s in control of his own motions, his body rippling and curving seemingly at it’s own will. Harry’s hands are holding his sides, like he’s steadying him but not slowing his motions. 

It almost feels too much, he can feel the heat pooling in his stomach, getting more and more intense with each thrust. “ _Harry,_ ” He whines, it’s the only word he can make sense of. “ _Fuck._ ”

Harry squeezes his sides, like reassurance. Louis can feel the stuttering of his hips becoming more erratic and messy, losing rhythm. He’s close, his hands clawing at the sheets, toes curling and breath all hiccupy. 

“ _Harry,_ ” He’s practically chanting it, breathing it out in a steady rhythm. “So close,” He warns him, “ _Ah,_ Harry.”

And just like that, he feels himself come undone. The tight tension and the fast release, like a taut rubber band snapping. He goes completely lightheaded, brain fizzling out into nothing but a mess of pleasure. He almost blacks out as he feels himself shoot into Harry’s mouth, only just looks in time to catch Harry swallowing it down, lapping at his tip.

Harry looks back up at him as he wipes a stray drop from his chin, licking it off his thumb and into his mouth. Louis just slumps back against the pillows, too overwhelmed to say anything but “C’mere.”

Harry drags himself back up Louis’ body, curling on side and slinging an arm over Louis’ chest before bringing the covers up over them with the other. They’re silent for a moment, just lying next to each other, Harry’s face resting against Louis’ neck, breath tickling under his chin. Louis’ arm reaches around Harry’s shoulders, gently stroking against his back.

“Good?” Harry asks after a while, voice soft. 

“Could say that.” Louis responds cheekily before tilting Harry’s chin and kissing his lips. He furrows his eyebrows when they pull apart, “You taste like jizz.”

Harry snorts, “So do you.”

“Aren’t we romantic?” Louis giggles, tugging Harry in closer to his side. 

“We are. Very much so.” Harry responds, smiling up at him. “Lou,” his voice drops lower, “D’you know that you, um, say my name loads when I’m getting you off? Like _loads._ ”

Louis feels himself blush, squirming to hide his face. “Is it weird?”

Harry grins back at him, kissing his collarbone. “Weird wasn’t the word I had in mind.”

“Oh yeah, and what word _did_ you have in mind?” Louis quips back, poking Harry’s dimple.

“Maybe I’ll tell you after our next date.”

Louis grins at that, pressing his lips against Harry’s forehead. “Mm, then I look forward to it.” 

Harry laughs softly, tracing his fingers around the outline of Louis’ ‘it is what it is’ tattoo. “D’you think we have enough time to nap before we have to head back to LA?”

Louis doesn’t know, he doesn’t even know what time it is or if he even has transport planned anyway.

“Yeah. Definitely.” He replies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> god i'm sorry this is basically 8k words of porn with feelings. but there are a lot of feelings and i hope they came across in this between the smut.  
> also i really feel like bi erasure is a huge issue in larry fic (and the world in general) so i really wanted to just have louis say that he identifies as bisexual. i feel that it's important to treat bisexuality as a valid and real sexuality and not to diminish the past relationships or attractions that his character has felt towards girls.   
> hope you enjoyed! :)


	9. Chapter 9

When Louis wakes up again, it’s to the feeling of Harry gently nudging his shoulder, mumbling his name. Louis blinks himself awake, rubbing at his eyes.

“Sorry to wake you,” Harry apologises, sitting cross legged next to him. Louis notices he’s put on a pair of boxers and a headband to keep his hair up.

He rubs his eyes, ruffling his hair. “What’s the time?”

“Still early,” Harry reassures him, “Just gone nine.”

Louis doesn’t think he's ever experienced so many emotions before 9am.

“Liam just FaceTimed me,” Harry continues, “But um, I didn’t answer ‘cos you weren’t awake and I didn’t like, want to say anything you wouldn’t want me too.”

Louis yawns, rolling onto his side to face Harry. “What d’ya mean?”

”Well, he’s gonna ask where we are isn’t he?”

“And..?” Louis asks, looking up at him. 

“I don’t know,” Harry stammers, “I just wanted to check you’re okay with him knowing.”

Louis rolls his eyes, squeezing Harry’s thigh. “I meant what I said, no more secrets. But thank you for checking with me first.”

Harry grins at him, unlocking his phone. “Shall we call him back now? It’ll be so funny.”

Louis nods, “Yeah, get under the covers as well, make it look proper sexual.”

Laughing, Harry pulls the covers up and wriggles underneath them, lying next to Louis. Louis watches him rifle through his phone for Liam’s contact before hitting the FaceTime button. Louis can’t help but smile stupidly when his and Harry’s image is reflected back at him on the screen. They look good, happy and glowing. It looks right, the two of them curled up in bed together.

It doesn’t ring for very long before the screen buffers and Liam’s face appears. Harry and Louis smirk as they watch his face light up on the screen. His mouth drops and he brings his hands up to cover it.

“Oi oi.” Liam lets out, mouth wide open and head shaking in disbelief. “Well _hello_ lads, what do we have here then?”

Louis chuckles, wriggling closer to Harry. “Just a couple of pals hanging out.”

Harry bites his shoulder and Liam squints his eyes, “You are looking _extremely_ pally I must say.”

Harry laughs back, “Should have seen us a couple of hours ago.”

Liam groans, “I did _not_ need to know that. Hang on a minute, I’ll go grab Niall, we shared a hotel room last night.”

Louis raises his eyebrows, “Wow. Anything you wanna tell us Payno?”

“Oh, shut up.” Liam snorts, “Niall and I actually _are_ just a couple of pals hanging out.”

They all laugh as Liam sets his phone down, abandoning it to find Niall. Louis turns to Harry, pinching his cheek softly and feeling himself go all soft when Harry smiles back up at him, bright as the sun. “Okay?” Louis asks, thumbing over his cheekbone.

Harry nods before gesturing back at his phone screen, the figures of Liam and Niall just visible walking into the room.

As soon as Niall reaches the phone, he picks it straight up and shouts a loud “Wey hey!” into it. Liam nudges his way into frame, grinning from ear to ear.

“Alright, Niall?” Louis asks giggling.

“Fantastic!” Niall replies, completely beside himself. “Can’t believe you boys got together, took you long enough. Liam was shitting himself all last night wondering where you’d got to and I fucking _told_ him you’d be off banging each other!”

Louis goes a bit pink at that, feels Harry do the same next to him. “Erm, thanks for the support Niall.”

“I’m just messing with you,” Niall laughs, slinging an arm over Liam’s shoulder. “But really, what happened between the two of you last night? I mean I can sort of take a wild guess but-”

Louis looks at Harry in the screen, he doesn’t really know how to answer Niall. It feels too soon to say they’re together, but saying that they aren’t isn’t even close to the truth. Harry answers for him, “Um, y’know, we just talked. Louis knows how I feel about him, and, yeah, it’s mutual-“ 

Liam lets out a soft “Aw,” at that, leaning his head on Niall’s shoulder. 

Harry continues, “So we’re just, we’re just happy. Happy together.”

Louis can’t help but smile at that, reaching out and grabbing Harry’s free hand under the covers, linking their fingers together. He nods at the phone, eyes flicking between Harry and the boys.

“Lads honestly, we’re so happy _for_ you.” Liam says, grinning at them. “Feel like I’ve been watching you pair pining over each other forever.”

Harry giggles, rubbing Louis’ hand with his thumb. “Thanks, Liam.”

“And you are _so_ cute. Like, looking at you all cuddled up together, tugging at my heart strings I tell ya’.” Niall laughs, blinking his eyes back at them.

Louis shakes his head fondly, “Give it a rest.”

Harry stretches, wrapping an arm over Louis’ shoulders. “Liam d’you know if we’re meant to be flying back to LA together?”

“Dunno mate, me and Niall were gonna get a jet back then I’m flying out to Monaco with Soph. You might wanna let security know what you’re up to before you do anything else though.”

“Yeah,” Harry sighs, “That’ll be fun.”

“I’m sure you can get a jet back to LA together under the radar, ring up transport they’ll sort it for you.” Niall adds.

“I’ll give Alberto a shout, he’ll get it all arranged.” Louis says, yawning slightly.

“Right well, me and Liam have gotta shoot off. So we’ll leave you boys to it, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Harry and Louis say together. 

“See ya later, love you guys.” Harry adds.

“Love you.” Liam and Niall reply, giving the two of them a big wave before the call disconnects and the screen goes black.

Harry puts his phone back on the bedside table before flopping over and wrapping Louis up in his arms. Louis goes easily, joining his hands around Harry’s back. He’s still not even close to being used to the feeling of having Harry so close, being allowed to touch and kiss and just exist together. 

Harry kisses his forehead softly, brushing back his fringe. “Do you want breakfast?”

Louis nods, “Breakfast and a shower.”

“Yeah, you stink.” Harry retorts, flicking his nose playfully.

Louis scoffs and slaps Harry on the ass, just gentle and joking. 

Harry lets out a sharp breath, raising his eyebrows. “Careful, I might like that too much.” 

“Oh my god.” Louis exasperates, “Is there anything on this earth that doesn’t get you going?”

“I’m very open minded Louis.” 

“Clearly. Now get your mind out of the gutter and into the kitchen.” Louis says, pulling the blankets back and sitting up straight.

Harry complies, slinging a leg out of bed. He waggles his eyebrows, “ _Mm_ yeah, tell me what to do.”

“Oh my _god._ ” Louis laughs, slumping back on the bed. “ _Go_ before I ring the boys back and tell them how much of a freak you are in bed.”

“Ooh, humiliation kink. I’m all for it.”

Louis chucks a pillow at him.

*

The cupboards in Harry’s place are all but empty, seeing as it’s mostly un-lived in, Harry only using it every now and then. 

“I found an ancient packet of Muesli and some rice crackers.” Harry had informed Louis, after scouring the kitchen for any source of nutrition. “I can nip down the road and pick something up, there’s a little bakery that’s like, a five minute walk away. I’d say come with me, but…risky.”

Louis had just nodded, “Yeah, if you don’t mind. M’starving.”

It’s been almost half an hour now since Harry left to get food and Louis is freshly showered and lounging on a white leather sofa, flicking through the TV channels. Harry had left him a pile of clothes to change into, soft joggers and an old Rolling Stones t-shirt.

He’s watching a rerun of an episode of Friends, one he’s seen a thousand times before. He laughs at all the right times, although his head isn’t really in the right place. It’s the one where Phoebe meets Mike for the first time, a blind date. Louis knows what happens further down the line, they fall in love and end up marrying each other, living happily ever after. 

He finds himself wondering what might have happened if he’d met Harry through circumstances that weren’t as strange as the one’s they’d found themselves in. What if _they’d_ been set up on a blind date? What if Harry was a regular at a coffee shop Louis worked at, if they bumped into each other on the tube, studied at the same uni?

He feels almost sure that he would have found Harry, that they would have crossed paths somehow. He can’t imagine himself in a universe where the words “Harry Styles” provoke no reaction from him. He pulls the neckline of Harry’s t-shirt up, covers his mouth with it.

He can wonder about alternate situations for him and Harry as much as he likes, but this is their reality. This is the hand they were drawn. And they can make it work, Louis really thinks they can.

Louis watches the rest of the show, lets himself forget about everything for a minute. It doesn’t have to be one or the other, Louis starts to realise. He can sit in Harry’s house, wearing his clothes and watching morning television like any regular person would. Just because their sold out, world stadium tour is kicking back off in a few weeks, doesn’t mean they can’t have these moments for themselves.

Louis hears the front door creak open and footsteps bounding their way into the living room. 

He watches Harry stumble in, a plethora of brown paper bags in hand. He’s got on a little pair of running shorts and an oversized hoodie, hair pushed back with a headband, grinning at Louis from ear to ear. He’s so lovely, Louis thinks to himself. Just completely endearing. 

“Breakfast is served.” Harry smiles, making his way over to the sofa and sitting himself down next to Louis. He puts the bags down on the coffee table in front of them before reaching out and cupping Louis’ neck, pecking his lips. Louis feels him smile into the kiss, bumping their noses together when they pull apart.

“What was that for?” Louis whispers, face still close to Harry’s.

“You look nice and I like kissing you.” Harry shrugs.

Louis bites his lip, “I like it to.”

“You like kissing you?” Harry laughs, leaning forward and unwrapping a bag.

Louis rolls his eyes, pinching Harry’s thigh. “You know what I mean.”

Harry holds a paper bag in his lap, pointing his body away from Louis as he rifles through it. “Don’t look what’s in the bag, I’m gonna test you.”

Louis covers his eyes with his hand straight away, “Go for it.” He hears the ruffling of paper and the unwrapping of plastic, Harry shuffling closer to him. 

“Okay, open your mouth.” 

Louis complies, letting his mouth fall open with his eyes jammed shut. He feels Harry place something sticky and sweet between his lips, he bites a chunk off and chews, tasting the flavour. “Cinnamon.” He states.

“Cinnamon _what?_ ” Harry prompts.

“Cinnamon…swirl?”

Harry claps his hands, “Yes! Nicely done. Ok, next.”

Louis indulges Harry, shutting his eyes and opening his mouth again, although he really is starving and would very much enjoy eating properly some time soon.

“This one’s quite big so, open wide.”

Louis gives Harry his best _you’re a shit_ look he can manage with his eyes closed before letting his jaw go slack. Louis feels soft dough against his lips, nibbles a bit off. “That’s a muffin, erm…raspberry?” 

“Nope.” Harry proclaims, popping the ‘p.’ “It’s a muffin but not raspberry.”

Louis takes another bite, mulling it over. “Cranberry?”

“Almost,” Harry encourages, “You’re missing something.”

Louis whines, “Is it cranberry and…lemon?”

Harry pinches his cheek. “Cranberry and lemon is correct. Last one and then we can eat?”

Louis just shuts his eyes again, dropping his mouth open. The next thing he feels is Harry’s fingers slipping past his lips. He raises his eyebrows, but sucks them in, tasting the sweet cream on the his fingertips. He licks it off, sliding his mouth off of Harry’s fingers.

“Well that was just inappropriate.” Louis deadpans, smirking at Harry. “It’s buttercream though.”

Harry snorts, wiping his fingers on the paper bag. “You have a very refined palette.”

“Ah, so I’ve been told. Can we please eat now?”

Harry nods, “I’ll go get plates. Don’t spill anything on the sofa whilst I’m gone.”

Louis rolls his eyes, smiling to himself. He picks at the pastries whilst Harry rummages around in the kitchen, searching for plates. 

Louis can hear him singing idly, he grins from ear to ear when he tunes in to the lyrics. 

_“You are the one I want. Oh, oh, oh, honey.”_

Grease. Louis’ heart flutters, it was always their movie. They’d dance around the kitchen to the soundtrack, Louis teaching Harry the right moves he remembered from when he’d played Danny in his school production.

They’ve made so many memories together, so many parts of each other intertwined in stories and old recollections. Some fleeting and easily forgotten, and some that will last a lifetime. From here on out, they’re only going to be making more.

_“Are you sure? Yes I’m sure down deep inside.”_

*

“I was thinking,” Harry says, bouncing down onto the sofa next to Louis, two china plates in hand. “We should go on a date tomorrow, when we get back to LA.” He contemplates, taking two cinnamon swirls from the packet and serving them up.

“Thought we’d already been on one?” Louis teases, putting his plate on the coffee table and biting into the pastry.

“Okay, we should go on a _second_ date then.” Harry humours him, tearing a small chunk from his cinnamon swirl and popping it into his mouth.

“Definitely. What’s with the rush though?”

Harry licks his lips, crossing his legs underneath him. “Making up for lost time.” He shrugs.

Louis swallows, he wants to spend every waking second with Harry. Sit in his lap for the rest of his life, maybe. 

Harry brings him back to reality though, “And I’m sort of busy the day after. We’ve got that big meeting with management about the tour, don’t we?” 

Louis purses his lips nodding, that’d all but slipped his mind.

“Um, and I have to see Jeff for a bit, pre-existing plans and all that.” Harry continues.

Louis can sense the tone of guilt in his voice, and it throws him off. He doesn’t want to go back to the mindset he used to have when it came to Harry, that it has to be all or nothing. Louis wants to be a part of Harry’s life, but he doesn’t need to occupy every last millimetre of it.

“You don’t have to say it like that.” Louis says, voice quiet. “It’s fine if you want to hang out with other people as well, yeah?” 

Harry nods at him, picking at his pastry.

“I’ve sort of been thinking about that to be honest,” Louis continues, “Remember how obsessed we used to be with each other?”

Harry laughs gently, “We were pretty bad.”

“Exactly.” Louis agrees, “I don’t think it was like…healthy. I used to get so jealous of your mates, but not anymore. I don’t want you to feel guilty for having friends.”

He looks at Harry, squeezing his thigh reassuringly. Harry smiles back at him, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. “Same for you. I know you’ve got all your friends from home and all that.”

“Yeah,” Louis nods. “I mean, I’m not gonna be perfect or anything. I might still get a bit mardy at times when you’re not around, but I think that’s just the sort of person I am really. Like, I’ve always gotta have sometimes attention.”

Harry chuckles, “That does sound a lot like you.” He puts his plate back down on the coffee table, leaning back against the sofa. “But if it makes you feel any better, my friends definitely don’t get _this_ kind of attention from me.” He leans in and kisses Louis’ mouth, biting just a little at his bottom lip before pulling apart. 

Louis smirks back at him, “What other kinds of attention don’t they get?”

Harry raises his eyebrows, “I’d tell you, but I’ve gotta save some surprises for our second date.”

Louis feels himself blush, skin tingling at Harry’s words. “Can I have a clue?” He flutters his eyelashes, looking up at Harry from underneath them.

Harry’s eyes glisten, one arm wrapping around Louis and pulling him over so that he’s straddling Harry, perched over his lap on his knees. Louis swallows, sucking in a sharp breath when he feels Harry’s hands slip behind Louis and rest against the swell of his ass. Harry squeezes his cheeks, pulling Louis in close to him with his hands. “Something along these lines?”

Louis rolls his hips forward involuntarily, Harry’s hands moving with him. He hears Harry’s breath falter, catching in his throat when Louis repeats the motion. 

He leans in, ducking his head down to plant his lips against the line of Harry’s neck. He nips at the skin before latching his mouth on, kissing right up the junction of Harry’s jaw. 

Harry sighs under him, kneading the swell of Louis’ ass under his fingers. Louis shudders, a barely there moan escaping his lips when Harry’s spreads his cheeks, just so, through his joggers.

“ _Fuck_ , Harry.” He breathes into Harry’s neck, lips still parted against the golden skin.

Harry takes one hand away, letting it hover before bringing it back down against Louis’ ass, a soft slap. 

Louis bites Harry’s neck, harder this time so he feels Harry shiver under him, back arching up slightly off the sofa, his chest pressing against Louis’.

He feels Harry’s hands disappear, but this time they don’t end up back on his ass. Instead he feels them on his hips, steadying him as Harry adjusts his weight and tips Louis back off onto the sofa.

“Good enough clue?” Harry smirks, gaze drifting back to the TV, the raised corners of his mouth and flushed cheeks giving him away.

“You’ve got icing on your nose.” Louis retorts, brushing himself off.

Harry laughs, wiping at it with the back of his palm. “Gone?”

Louis juts his bottom lip out, examining Harry’s face. “Mm, still there.” He squints before sticking his tongue out and licking the offending icing right off the tip of Harry’s nose. “Much better.” He says, slotting himself into Harry’s lap. “Any chance we can have our second date right now?” 

Harry rolls his eyes affectionately, draping his arms over Louis. “Patience is a virtue.”

“Says the one who just fondled my arse out of the blue.”

“It’s a nice arse.” 

Louis wriggles in his lap, “It says thank you.”

Harry chuckles, reaching under Louis and pinching one cheek. “Tell it that it’s my pleasure.”

 

*

They lounge around together for most of the morning, sprawled out on the sofa, limbs intertwined, feeding each other pastries and kissing the sugar off their lips. It feels like a calm before the storm, like they’re cushioned in bubble wrap together away from the rest of the world.

A lot of it has to with being in Vegas, it’s like no mans land, unfamiliar territory almost. Neither of them have checked their phones or the internet all morning, not quite ready to dip back into reality. Louis is sure he probably has a million and one missed calls waiting for him, he hasn’t been in touch with security since he hopped in the car with Harry last night. 

He gets a jittery feeling in his stomach, a cloud of anxiety obscuring his vision. He doesn’t want to get him and Harry in shit, especially not with the bomb they’re about to drop. It’s conflicting, because on one hand, he’s over taking orders and being marched around, it’s his fucking life. On the other, he needs to be realistic. They _are_ assets worth millions and being missing in action without security isn’t the wisest of ideas.

He stretches, raising his arms above his head in an exaggerated motion.

Harry catches him in the corner of his eye and gives him a small smile, “Y’alright?”

“Yeah,” Louis yawns. “I was thinking about giving Alberto a ring, let him know where I am and everything.”

Harry reaches for the remote and pauses the TV. “Sure,” he says, scratching the side of his neck, “What’re you gonna say?”

“Nothing major. Just ask him if he can arrange us a jet back and stuff.”

Harry nods, “Cool. Tell him we’ll need a pick up though cos I haven’t got a car here.”

“Will do, I won’t be a sec.” Louis says, standing up from the sofa and brushing himself off. He’s halfway out of the living room when he pauses, turning back to Harry. “Shit, I forgot something.”

“What?” Harry mumbles, looking up at him from the sofa.

Louis makes a beeline for him, tilting Harry’s chin up with his pointer finger. “This.” He leaves a soft kiss against his lips, tender. 

Harry giggles as they break apart, “That was so fucking cheesy.”

“I know.” Louis replies, swiping his hand through Harry’s hair, ruffling it before he turns on his heel and heads to the bedroom to try and locate his phone.

It feels a bit surreal, wandering back into Harry’s master bedroom after the drunken antics that had taken place there last night. 

Louis blushes a little when he pushes the door open, catching his reflection looking back at him in the ceiling mirror. Louis was almost convinced that had been some figment of his drunk imagination, honestly, who the fuck has a ceiling mirror?

He feels his stomach jitter, just a little as he wanders over to the bed. Remembers how _needy_ he’d been, how badly he’d wanted Harry and then the crisis of confidence that had followed. He doesn’t regret it though, actually feels proud that he didn’t go through with something he wasn’t completely comfortable with.

It’s going to be amazing, being back in LA with Harry. LA has been a source of Louis’ aggressions for a long while, a place that made him feel on a different planet completely to Harry. 

It’s all changed now, it’s so different. Louis thinks about staying at Harry’s house, sleeping in his bed, waking up next to him. Holding Harry under the warmth of the California sun, feeling the heat of it on his skin and tasting the salt from the sea against his lips. 

Louis strokes his thumb over the lines of the compass inked onto his arm, presses his pad into the word _home._

It doesn’t matter, he realises. It doesn’t matter whether it’s LA, whether it’s Vegas, whether it’s the middle of the damn ocean. If Harry's there with him, he can call it home. He drops to his knees and lifts the sheets up to search under the bed, he spots his phone almost instantly, reaching under to grab it.

He has to take a deep breath before unlocking it, somewhat terrified to find out what’s waiting for him. 

In the grand scheme of things, it could be worse. There’s several missed calls and a few strongly worded text messages, but nothing too drastic. 

He pops the phone in his pockets, heading back to the living room so him and Harry can sort out the transport together.

*

They manage to arrange a private jet to take the two of them back to LA together this afternoon, under the radar. It takes a fair bit of convincing, the two of them promising not to make any pit stops on the way or speak to any fans. But they get there in the end. Just the two of them, flying on a private plane back to LA. Louis almost has to pinch himself for that to sink in.

He can’t help but notice that Harry goes a bit quiet once they get off the phone, he folds in on himself, hugging his arms across his chest.

It’s only Louis that chuckles along with the laugh track on the TV, Harry just staring straight ahead at the screen and chewing at the skin around his thumbnail. 

When the next ad break comes on, Louis clears his throat, adjusting his position and slinging his legs over Harry’s. “Everything okay?”

Harry presses his lips together and nods, looking forward at the TV. 

“Harry.” Louis says quietly, “What’s the matter?”

He feels Harry sigh under him and his hand come to rest on Louis’ lower thigh. “It’s nothing, I just…” He trails off.

“Just what?” Louis asks, putting his hand on top of Harry’s, linking their fingers. “I’m just thinking about… stuff. I don’t know, it’s nothing.” Harry rushes, still looking ahead.

“Harry, you’re obviously upset. You’ve got to let me in otherwise how can I know how to help you?” Harry lets out a heavy breath, blinking fast. Louis sees him biting at his bottom lip, can feel his pulse against his thigh. “Harry?”

Harry shuts his eyes for a moment, before looking up at the ceiling. “I don’t want this to end.”

Louis furrows his eyebrows, still holding Harry’s hand. “What makes you think it’s going to?”

“Louis, this has all happened so fast for you, yeah?” Louis nods at him slowly. “Okay, well it hasn’t for me.”

“How’d you mean?” Louis asks, gently squeezing Harry’s fingers, although he thinks he may already have an idea.

“I’ve known about my sexuality for fucking ages.” Harry continues, sighing. “And I’ve known exactly how I feel about you for even longer.”

Louis feels his stomach drop at that, he just looks back at Harry, letting him continue.

“Literally, Lou, since the bloody bungalow. I’ve wanted this since then, I’ve wanted to be with you for as long as I can remember knowing you. And it never stopped.” His voice gets a little high pitched and strained.

Louis can’t do anything but rub Harry’s hand with his thumb, biting down on his bottom lip. “Harry, I-I had no _idea._ ”

“I wanted to tell you. When we lived together, every morning I woke up and wondered if I should tell you.” Harry takes a deep breath, his bottom lip starting to quiver. “But I thought I was being so fucking obvious you must have already known.”

Louis can see Harry’s eyes starting to water, the way he’s creasing his features to try and hold it in. 

“And that’s what scares me, Lou. For a good couple of years we may as well have been boyfriends the way we acted with each other. And then it just _stopped._ ” A real tear falls from Harry’s eye now, and Louis swipes it away with his thumb, throat aching from the effort to hold in his own.

“It just stopped. We went _weeks_ at a time without speaking, I would lie in bed and scroll through your Twitter to see what you were up to because I had no idea otherwise.”

“Harry,” Louis chokes out, “I never wanted that to happen.” He croaks, looking right at Harry. “I never stopped wanting you around, ever. I thought _you_ had enough of _me_. I thought you were sick of me, that you wanted space, that you wanted those meetings with management about us to stop.”

Harry shuts his eyes at that, two neat tear tracks spilling down his face. “I wanted them to stop telling me I was doing something wrong by so much as fucking _looking_ at you. I wanted to tell them to fuck off. I wanted to fling myself at you and kiss you in front of all of them.” He pauses, regulating his breathing. “But I didn’t think you wanted me to.”

Louis breaks at that, a tear trickling down his face. 

“I was getting called into meetings by myself as well, they were always asking why I didn’t have a girlfriend and if I’d like to be introduced to anyone and I just remember wanting to punch something because I wanted _you._ ” Harry croaks.

“Haz,” Louis breathes out, voice almost breaking. “I wanted you, I didn’t fucking know it but I did. I wanted to be around you all the time, always be touching you, always be near you. I thought about kissing you, I thought about being with you.” 

Louis watches Harry visibly react to his words, taking in sharp breaths at each revelation, eyes welling with tears. 

“But I brushed it off, Harry. I brushed it off because all these people were telling me I should. All these people were telling me not to touch you in interviews or smile at you on stage and I listened to them.” Louis catches his breath, outburst leaving him feeling weak and shaky. “I’m not listening anymore though.”

Harry takes a deep breath before wrapping his arms around Louis’ waist, burying his head in the soft material of Louis’ t-shirt. Louis can feel him crying, can feel his shoulders shaking and the wet patch forming on his shirt. He lets him, just stroking Harry’s hair and rubbing his back. 

Harry’s clutching Louis’ shirt with one hand, like he’s holding onto it for dear life. Louis kisses the top of his head, trying to soothe him. He’s crying himself, wet droplets running down his cheeks and dripping off his chin.

“I’m not going to leave you, Harry.” Louis breathes out, “I’m not going to let anybody come between us. I don’t care what they throw at us, I’m not letting you go. We should never have let them stick a wedge between us, but we did because we were young and we didn’t know what the fuck we were doing.” He pulls Harry closer to him. “But we do now. This isn't going to stop, it’s not going to just go away like it did before.”

Harry sucks in a breath, tilting his head up to look at Louis. “Fuck.” He lets out on a deep exhale.

Louis laughs breathily, wiping Harry’s eyes with his thumb. He looks so vulnerable and young in Louis’ arms, small and delicate. Louis’ heart beats fast, doubling in speed when Harry looks him right in the eye. 

“Harry,” Louis breathes out, “I never, _ever_ wanted to hurt you. I wasn’t fair to you, I had a girlfriend and I lead you on without even realising I was doing it.” He strokes Harry’s hair out of his face. “But it’s different now, I know who I am and know what I want. I’m not going to let some old men in suits convince me otherwise. I don’t care what anybody else thinks, I really don’t.”

Harry stays quiet, his arms wrapped around Louis and his hands gripping at the back of his shirt. 

“I know we signed a contract, and I know we can’t just walk out on stage holding hands and that’ll be that, I _know_ that. But if you want this Harry, we can make it work. I swear to you, it’s up to us. Nobody else.”

Harry lets out a hiccupy breath, looking up at Louis, his eyelashes wet with tears and his cheeks flushed. “I want to be with you more than anything else.”

“Then _be with me._ ” Louis exhales, “Fuck, please be with me Harry.”

Harry nods, slowly and then so fast that his curls bounce on his head. Louis can’t help but laugh, running a hand through his hair and trailing it down his neck. They’ve said _I love you_ before, a thousand times, at the end of phone calls and just in passing. Louis wants to say it again now because the emotion is overwhelming him. He has so much love in his body for Harry that he doesn’t know how to contain it. _I love you_ doesn’t seem like enough to even cover half of what he feels.

He decides to let it manifest physically, holding Harry’s face between his hands. He doesn’t move for a moment, just rubbing circles into Harry’s cheekbones with his thumbs, letting himself look deep into his eyes. His breathing falters when he finds love staring right back at him. 

Harry’s lips twitch and Louis can’t resist the urge to connect them with his, gentle, delicate. He’s never felt more at home.

Harry’s smiling when Louis takes his lips away, eyes fluttering open. “I genuinely never thought this would happen.”

“Neither did I.” Louis breathes, tracing his fingers over the soft material of Harry’s hoodie. 

“Like, it sort of feels like, I don’t know like…I’m dreaming.” 

Louis pinches his nipple through the fabric and Harry squirms. “Nope, definitely not dreaming.”

Harry grins at him, wiping a lingering tear from under his eye. “If I could go back in time and tell sixteen year old me that I just sucked your dick and finger fed you pastries-“

Louis lets out a loud laugh, “ _Harry,_ ” He groans affectionately, nuzzling him with the side of his face.

Harry giggles, sniffing and rubbing his eyes. “I mean it though, I really can’t believe this is happening.” Harry raises the corners of his mouth, “You want me.”

“I do.” Louis nods, “I want you so much. In every way. And I’m a little bit terrified about what’s going to happen next, but I really think we can do it together, Haz.”

Harry takes a shaky breath and puts his hand against Louis’ cheek, caressing it gently before bringing it to rest against his jaw. He leans in close and rests his lips against Louis’. They don’t move for a moment, just suspended in time and each other. Harry puckers his lips and kisses Louis slow. It’s soft and gentle, so completely tender. Louis can feel the relief through the kiss, he can feel how much it means to Harry and it means just as much to him.

“I could genuinely kiss you all day.” Harry speaks softly as they move apart, hand still on Louis’ jaw.

Louis grins back, leaning forward and pecking Harry’s lips in a few quick motions. He swipes over the bottom one with his thumb before ducking in and pulling it between his teeth. He tugs gently, feeling Harry sigh before he lets go and kisses it again with his lips. 

“You have a lovely mouth.”

Harry laughs, “I’m flattered.”

Louis adjusts his weight, leaning back against the arm of the sofa with his legs still slung over Harry’s. “You know we need to get ready soon?” 

“Mhm.” Harry sighs, picking at a stitch in Louis’ joggers. 

“You okay?” Louis asks him, stroking the back of his head. 

“Yeah,” Harry nods. “Having a good cry helps you feel better sometimes. My mum always says that.”

“I miss your mum.” Louis states, twirling the a strand of Harry’s hair around his finger. “How is she?”

“Good, she’s doing good. You should, um, come and visit some time, if you want to. I’m sure she’d love to see you.”

Louis feels his stomach twist at that, the thought of being re-introduced to Anne, to the rest of Harry’s family as more than just Harry’s friend and bandmate makes him nervous. If Harry knew he had feelings for Louis the whole time, then Anne definitely knew. He remembers Lottie telling him that she’s spoken to Anne about it and cringes. It’s a lot of pressure, a lot to explain and talk about.

“You don’t have to if you’re not comfortable.” Harry adds on when Louis doesn’t reply.

“No, I want to.” Louis reassures him. “S’just a bit of a scary thought is all. You could come up to Donny as well if you want, see the girls, they all love you.” 

Harry smiles, “I’d like that.”

“We’ll pencil it in then, yeah?” Louis stretches his arms over his head yawning, “For now can we just cuddle on this sofa until we have to leave for the airport?”

Harry kisses his cheek, “Oh, absolutely.”

*

By the time they touch down in LA the sun has set and the two of them are exhausted. They spent the flight curled up in each other under thin aeroplane blankets, Louis’ head resting on Harry’s shoulder and Harry’s arm curled tight around his waist. 

The hard tarmac under their feet and the too bright field lights shining in their eyes leave them in a daze as they make their way over to the car waiting to pick them up. Louis hooks his pinkie finger around Harry’s as they walk side by side. He feels his pulse rate quicken as they approach the small entourage of security and handlers waiting for them. He swallows once before taking Harry’s hand into his fully, grasping it tightly, a surge of pride sweeping over him when he feels Harry squeeze back.

Louis sees the way each eye falls to the place where their hands are joined, sees the expressions on their faces and the looks of concern they share between each other. He holds his head up high, only holding Harry’s hand tighter.

“Hello.” He states as they approach, his eyebrows raised just so.

He can sense the bated breath, the awkwardness as everyone contemplates whether or not to address the giant elephant in the room, or on the tarmac.

“Did you have a comfortable flight?” One asks, stepping forward to take their bags from them.

“Very comfortable, thank you.” Harry responds, taking his bag from his shoulder and handing it over.

Louis nods, handing his rucksack to them. “Is there any need for this many people to be here?” He asks, gesturing to the gang stood in front of the car.

“Your safety is our priority, Mr. Tomlinson. Two high profile personnel such as yourselves travelling together creates a very real security risk.”

“Right,” Louis sighs, rolling his eyes at Harry. “Can we all get going then?”

“Of course, once the other car arrives you can both be on your way.”

Harry clears his throat, “Other car?”

“You’ll be travelling in separate cars, for security reasons.” The handler says, straightening their tie. “It’s just procedure.”

As if on cue, another jet black SUV rolls up, the windows tinted.

“Procedure.” Harry repeats, “Since when?”

 

Louis lets out a heavy breath, turning to Harry. “It’s not worth it, pick your battles.” He says as he watches the handlers load their bags into two different cars. “I’ll see you back at yours, okay? Get the kettle on for me.” 

Harry lets out a gentle laugh, turning their bodies away from the entourage, backs facing them. “I’ll see you soon.” He whispers, leaning close, a hand clasping Louis’ bicep.

Louis reaches up and smooths a strand of hair behind Harry’s ear. He brings his hand to rest against his jaw, stretching up on his tiptoes and placing a delicate kiss to Harry’s lips, chapped from the dry aeroplane air. “I’ll see you soon.”

He hears Harry swallow, cheeks dimpling as they break apart. “Don’t be too long.” He utters, pulling Louis’ hoodie closed over his chest and zipping it up for him before patting him down and brushing away a spec of dirt.

“Quick as I can.” Louis smirks offering him a wink over his shoulder as he turns to jump inside the SUV. 

Harry blows him a kiss as he gets inside his own.

*

The car journey back to Harry’s is short and Louis spends it in silence. He lets his head rest against the cool panes of window glass as the freeway flies past him, all black apart from the speckles of red brake lights and the white of the moon seeping through a blanket of clouds. 

His eyes feel heavy and his lids begin to droop, can feel himself slipping in and out of almost sleep. 

It must have started to rain, because the rhythmic sound of windscreen wipers flicking back and forth acts as something soothing to focus on. The driver has the radio on low and Louis can make out the mumblings of music if he listens carefully enough, a muted melody that doesn’t sound much like anything. 

A rain drop trickles down the window pane and Louis moves his head back so he can watch it. The way it seems so sure of where it’s going, leaving a neat vertical line of residue against the glass. Another hits the window, mimicking it’s pattern. They don’t overlap, but run almost parallel to each other. 

He keeps his gaze there, studying the glass. The car hits a bump in the road, a splattering of water from the puddles on the ground splashes up against the window, covering the tracks and leaving the whole thing soaking. 

Louis hears the driver flick the indicator on, the car slowing in speed as they pull off the freeway. The road is quieter now, just a lonely stretch of concrete lined with thick foliage on either side. There’s no car headlights to scatter the blackness of the night and the stars are tucked away behind the covering of the clouds. 

Louis looks out of the window, tries to get a read on where they are. His reflection stares back at him, blocking the view, clear and crisp in the pane. He squints his eyes, looking past it and out into the night. He can make out the twinkling of lights in the near distance where the trees become sparse and street lamps shine pools of light over the tarmac. 

Sitting back in his seat, he lets his eyes close for a moment. He can’t wait to be back at Harry’s, for it all to really begin. 

He looks back out of the window, watches as the road becomes a driveway, listens to the driver roll the front window down and punch a code into a security system at the gate. Louis cant help but grin as the car crawls into Harry’s drive, stopping when they reach the front door. 

Before he can open it himself, the driver jumps out and pulls Louis’ door open for him. Louis gives him a quiet “Thanks,” before bounding over the boot and tugging it open, retrieving his backpack.

The driver just gives him a nod, “Enjoy your night.” He tells Louis, stepping back inside the car.

“I will,” Louis assures him, “You too.”

Loose gravel crunches under Louis’ feet as he makes his way up the path towards Harry’s door. 

They’d waited for Harry’s car to be well on it’s way before Louis’ had followed, meaning Harry’s probably been waiting for him inside for a decent amount of time. The thought fills him with a warmness he can’t put his finger on, coming home to Harry, like it’s just expected. 

He raps his knuckles against the oak door, knocking twice before pushing it open and stepping inside. “Harry, s’me.” He calls out, kicking his shoes off before padding through the hallway, the marble flooring cold against his bare feet. He’s only been inside Harry’s house a handful of times, the interior familiar but not overly so. 

“Harry?” He calls again when he receives no reply. He sticks his head through the door that leads to the kitchen, tiptoeing in quietly. Louis notices two mugs stood on the counter, a tea bag in each. The kettle is full and the exterior is still hot when Louis places his thumb against it. 

He furrows his eyebrows, wandering back out of the kitchen and calling Harry’s name a little louder this time. The house is all on one level, no stairs and it’s relatively open plan, he sneaks a look in each room he comes to, still no sight of Harry.

It’s starting to unnerve him just a little, his heart picking up it’s pace with each empty room he slinks past. 

“ _Hello?_ ” He drawls, “Anybody in?”

He gets to another room, the door slightly ajar with a hazy light spilling from the inside of it. Louis pushes the door open as gently as he can, stepping inside with one foot. 

He lets out a deep exhale of something like relief at what he sees. It’s Harry’s bedroom, covered in earthy tones and patterned throws, potted plants and a four poster bed in the middle of the room. His stomach flutters when he sees Harry’s lanky form spread out in the centre of it, face buried in the pillows and long limbs star fishing over the sheets. 

It’s quiet and Louis can hear his breathing, deep, raspy breaths, the kind that only come with sleep, muffled by the soft of the pillows.

Louis stands in the door way, just allowing himself to stare for a moment. It’s tranquil, calming. Harry looks so peaceful and soft, glossy hair fanned underneath him, lips plush and cheek dented with pillow creases. 

Louis bites his lip, how did he get so lucky? How did he finally get it right? How did they finally get it right? This is it, isn’t it? This is exactly where Louis belongs, exactly where he wants to stay. It’s moments like this, the soft and delicate ones, quiet and so private. It’s for _them_ , nobody else. 

Harry’s breath hitches in his sleep and the smallest whimper falls from his lips. Louis can't resist any longer. He tiptoes over to the bed, lifting himself up onto it as quietly as he can manage. The mattress creaks the tiniest amount as Louis brings himself to lie down next to Harry, but Harry doesn’t wake.

Louis tucks himself into Harry’s side, instantly feeling warmth against his skin. He smells like the inside of a new car and something more musky, more natural, just Harry. Louis turns to look at Harry, takes in his features. The way his eyelashes are thick and black and cast a shadow over his cheekbones, how his lips are parted just enough for Louis to make out the whites of his slightly wonky front teeth. 

He lets himself lie next to Harry, his fingers brushing against the side of his arm, light enough that it’s barely there. Louis puts his head against the pillow, his lips inches away from the peach skin of Harry’s neck.

He breathes in, just stroking his finger tips as lightly as he can manage over Harry’s warm skin. He lets the fluttering in his chest grow and grow until he feels so full of love he could burst with it. 

It’s like his voice falters and the words come out with him meaning for them to, “I’m so in love with you.”

It’s a whisper, the ghost of what he wants to scream from the top of his lungs. _I’m so in love with you_. 

Without thinking about it, Louis leans forward, parting his lips against the ship etched into Harry’s skin. He lets them linger there before pressing them together and leaving the most tender of kisses against it. _Home_.

He feels the muscle in Harry’s arm twitch and Louis moves away sharply, putting a little bit of distance in-between them. He doesn’t want Harry to jolt awake and find Louis lurking over him, watching him sleep, which is essentially what he’s doing.

Harry’s still fully dressed, down to skin tight jeans and leather boots, he must be so uncomfortable. Louis contemplates trying to get him out of his clothes without waking him, but it feels invasive. Instead, he swipes Harry’s hair softly away from his forehead, caressing his cheek with the back of his knuckles.

“Haz,” He mumbles gently, “Babe.” The pet name slips out and Louis presses his lips together almost startled by it. It sounds good leaving his lips though, likes the way it feels around them, so he says it again. “Babe.”

He hears Harry take a sharp inhale, his face scrunching up as he turns on his side. Harry pushes his hair out of his face, eyes still closed.

“Harry,” Louis sings, his voice soft as he puts a hand on Harry’s shoulder, nudging him a little.

Harry blinks his eyes open, corners of his mouth twitching into a smile when he meets Louis’ eyes. “Was just resting my eyes.” He murmurs, voice rough like sandpaper.

“Were you now?” Louis asks on a breathy laugh.

Harry nods sleepily, hair falling across his face. “I was waiting for the kettle to boil.”

Louis brushes Harry’s hair out of his face, swirling it between his fingers. “Mm, exhausting activity, making tea init?” 

Harry smirks back at him, eyes drooping. “Strenuous, even.”

“Laborious, one might say.” Louis says, eyebrows raised.

Harry wriggles closer, their knees knocking together. “Arduous.”

Louis hooks his finger under Harry’s chin tilting it upwards. “Rigorous.” 

Harry responds by slotting their mouths together, kissing Louis slow and lazy, lips just sliding past each other, Louis’ finger still under Harry’s chin.

“You definitely just did that because you ran out of words.” Louis whispers into Harry’s lips, the two of them grinning as they pull apart.

“Guilty.” Harry giggles, letting his head fall back against the pillows. “I’m too tired to beat a human thesaurus, m’shattered.”

Louis props himself up on one elbow, leaning over Harry. “You hate sleeping in your clothes.” He recalls, rubbing his fingers against the neckline of Harry’s t-shirt.

“I do.” Harry replies, his eyelashes fluttering shut as Louis drags his fingers down to the hemline at the bottom of his shirt.

Louis clears his throat, “Would you like me to help you get them off?” Harry nods, stretching his arms above his head so Louis can pull his t-shirt off. “Lou?” He murmurs.

“Yeah?” Louis asks him, hitching his shirt up and exposing the soft flesh of his tummy and the laurel tattoos that mark the jut in his hips.

“Just take them off though.” Harry mumbles, “Like, no further than that tonight. I really am so tired.”

Louis nods up at him, expression sincere. “Course, I’m knackered too.”

Harry grins back down at him, shimmying his torso so Louis can pull his shirt up over his arms and head, kissing his lips quickly once it’s all the way off.

Louis thinks he could look at Harry forever and still be in awe. How he’s so toned and defined, yet still has a soft belly and love handles. The gold of his skin, how it almost seems to shimmer in the light. The scattering of tattoos, enticing and endearing all at once.

He shuffles down the bed, reaching take off Harry’s boots. He feels the soft suede under his fingers, pulling the zip down and edging the boots off one after another. He drops them neatly next to the bed, aware of how pricey the probably were.

He pinches the bottom of Harry’s little polka dots socks, pulling them off and dropping them on top of Harry’s shoes. “Cute socks.” Louis hums, rubbing a soft circle into Harry’s ankle with his thumb.

Harry just smiles back down at him, his eyes hooded and his arm slung above his head. 

Louis crawls back up the bed, pausing before his hand lingers near the waistband of Harry’s jeans. His fingers shake just the slightest amount as he brings them to the button of his jeans. “Okay?” Louis whispers, tapping the metal clasp.

“Yeah.” Harry assures him, wriggling his hips to give Louis better access. 

Louis nods, unbuttoning Harry’s trousers and pulling the zip down in a steady motion. He swallows harshly as he peels the jeans over the top of Harry’s milky thighs, Harry arching his hips up off the bed so Louis can get them off easier.

It’s a good thing Harry’s legs look so incredible in such tight denim, because getting them off is a fucking task. It takes a team effort of Harry wriggling and Louis tugging to get them down to Harry’s ankles, Louis’ breath coming out a little laboured once they get there. 

Louis lets out a relieved puff of air when they’re finally off and on the floor. “I imagined that as being a lot sexier in my mind.”

Harry lets out a loud laugh, throwing his head back on the pillows. “I liked it.”

Louis shimmies back up the sheets, lowering himself down next to Harry. “Why does my suffering bring you pleasure?”

“Everything you do brings me pleasure.” Harry grins at Louis, all lopsided.

Louis wants to make a sarcastic comment back, but he finds himself too enamoured and fucking lovesick to manage it. Instead he just leans forward and kisses the tip of Harry’s nose. “Feeling’s mutual.” He murmurs as he leans back.

“Sleep with me.” Harry grins, covering his mouth to yawn. Louis raises his eyebrows mischievously and Harry rolls his eyes. “Actual sleep…for now.”

Louis giggles, shucking his shirt over his head and pulling his joggers off, leaving him in just his boxers. He’d literally had his dick at the back of Harry’s throat only hours ago, but it still feels a little too soon to sleep naked next to him. Harry seems to agree, leaving his own boxers on before pulling the sheets up and sliding underneath them, holding them up for Louis to crawl in next to him.

He wastes no time, slotting himself in next to Harry. They lie facing each other for a moment, just looking at one another. 

Harry bites his lip, studying Louis’ features. “Shall I turn the light off?” Louis nods back at him, watching him turn his body to reach for the switch. He gets halfway there before he turns back to Louis. “Lou,” He whispers.

“Yeah?”

Harry bites his lip, eyes fixed on Louis’ face. “You make me so happy.”

Before Louis can respond, Harry turns back over and flicks the light off, leaving the room in a pool of darkness. 

Louis feels a pair of arms snake around his hips, pulling his back in tight against the warmth of Harry’s chest. Louis fumbles under the sheets for Harry’s hands. Finding them, he links their fingers together, squeezing Harry’s digits between his own in a gesture that he hopes says it right back. _You make me so happy._


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> remember when i said i'd be updating every couple of days....ha...ha. it has been way too long since i updated and i am so sorry. long story short i've just been ridiculously busy with a new job and uni stuff and have had like zero time to write. anyway! i'm so relieved to have finished this chapter and i'm sort of nervous to post it but here it is! (finally)

“ _Camping?_ ” Louis asks, exasperated tone. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah!” Harry whines, “I’ve got all everything we need.” 

“We’ve got all that stuff to do tomorrow though, we’ve got that bloody meeting with Sony.” Louis sighs, propping himself up against the back of the bed.

Harry’s on his knees in the centre, long tousles of hair falling over his bare chest. “We can get back in plenty of time for that.” Harry flutters his eyelashes at Louis, pout on his lips. “C’mon, Lou, it’ll be fun.”

At times, it’s easy to forget Harry’s still so young, that he’s the baby of the band. When he’s got his game face on, charming and charismatic, commanding a room. When he’s carrying a chorus on stage in front of thousands or walking a red carpet with his head held high. When he’s like this though, carefree and slightly naive about the restraints they have holding them down, it’s clear to see, almost refreshing.

“Alright.” Louis gives in, Harry dropping his mouth open into a wide smile. “We can go camping.”

Harry lurches forward, cupping Louis’ face and placing a hard kiss upon his lips. “I’ll even put the tent up all by myself.” 

Louis laughs, rolling his eyes and pinching Harry’s nipple. “Fuck off, team work is important in a relationship.”

He feels himself wince a bit after he says it, the words leaving his mouth without him thinking about them first. It’s the first time either of them has used the term “relationship” and Louis doesn’t know if it’s too soon.

Harry just nods back though, corners of his lips tucked up into a smirk. “Dream team.”

“Dream team.” Louis repeats, a flush of affection rushing over him. They’d always called themselves that, back in the day. When they’d pair up on FIFA or pitch together to pull pranks on the others, bouncing off each others energy and winding everybody up apart from themselves. 

Louis has missed Harry, that much is a given. He’s missed every part of what they used to share together, the friendship that was so unique and unlike any other. It feels incredible to know that not only does he have that back, but he now has a whole new dynamic on top of it to explore. Being in love with your best friend, Louis thinks, that’s something special.

“Where were you thinking of camping then?” Louis asks, sitting up against the headboard, eye level with Harry.

“I know a place, it’s not too far away.” Harry says, unlocking his phone and typing something in frantically. “It’s a bit, um… unofficial.”

“Expand…” Louis presses, already enthralled.

“I mean it’s not technically a camping site. S’basically just a bit of woods. But it’s nice, like _really_ nice.” He flips his phone over to Louis, showing him the screen. “It’s right by here.” He says, pointing his index finger at a unidentified segment of wooded land on Google Maps. “There’s a lake and everything.”

Louis squints, holding Harry’s wrist and bringing the phone in closer to get a good look. “You sure it’s like…safe?”

Harry nods. “Mhm, definitely. Do you know Xander?” 

Louis shakes his head, “You might have mentioned him, I don’t know…” He trails off.

“Right, well,” Harry continues, locking his phone, “He lives near, I know him through Jeff and he told me about the place. He goes camping there all the time with his boyfriend when they want to get away.”

Louis raises his eyebrows, “Didn’t realise you’re mates with the cast of Brokeback Mountain.”

“Funny.” Harry says, folding his arms. “I’m serious, they go all the time and he says it’s really romantic and fun. You want romance don’t you?”

 _“Harold.”_ Louis sighs, reaching out and unfolding Harry’s arms from across his chest, gripping his wrists. “Of course I want romance. I _thrive_ off romance. Do you realise we had our first kiss lying on the grass stargazing, like, how fucking sappy?”

The corners of Harry’s lips twitch, pout breaking into a smile he’s trying to keep under control. “I’d give it a solid seven out of ten on the sappy scale. I think you can do better.”

Louis tightens his hold on Harry’s wrist, squeezing just so and looking up at Harry through his eyelashes. “That a challenge?”

“If you choose to accept it.”

Louis pulls him forward, kissing the pointed tip of his chin. “I’m gonna woo you so hard.”

Harry snorts back a laugh, winking at Louis. “I love when you talk dirty to me.”

*

The drive takes a little while, Harry spends almost the whole journey with one hand on the steering wheel and the other resting on Louis’ thigh. Louis plays with his fingers, interlocking them with his own whilst Harry drives. It’s every cliche but they do it because they’ve never gotten the chance to before.

The boot is loaded with camping equipment Harry had conveniently found lurking in his garage, a tent and sleeping bags, a inflatable air bed just about big enough for the both of them to fit on. 

Harry’d found a little trangia stove hidden in his cupboard from old camping trips, but they’d decided to leave it behind as neither of them could remember how to work it properly. Instead they opt for packing a picnic, stopping off at a rundown convenience store they spot on the way to stock up on snacks.

Harry twists the keys, turning the ignition off, going to pull his door open before Louis interjects. “I’ll go in.”

“Oh,” Harry says, “You sure?”

“Mhm,” Louis nods, taking his wallet out of his back pocket. “Few things I’ve gotta grab as well.”

“Like?”

Louis raises an eyebrow, quirking a smile at Harry. “It’s a secret.”

Harry smirks back, shaking his head softly. “Go on then.”

“Don’t miss me too much.” Louis winks, pulling his door open and slinking into the store.

He thinks about Harry’s earlier words, “ _You want romance don’t you?_ ” He doesn’t know what sort of romantic paraphernalia a curb side convenience store would stock, but he's about to do his best to find out. 

He settles on a few packets of scented tea lights, marshmallows and wooden skewers and the most expensive bottle of red wine he can find in a store that also sells car tires. He picks up a basket full of picnic food too, a few ready made sandwiches, cereal bars, crisps and a few pots of fresh fruit that he knows Harry will appreciate. 

He had genuinely gone in the store with the intention of just stocking up on those few items, a couple of cute extras to make the whole affair a touch more on the romantic side. That is until he makes his way to the checkout, stopping in his tracks when he walks down what looks like a fairly innocent aisle. 

The bright coloured packaging catches his eye, keywords like “pleasure” and “excite” drawing him in. He can’t resist picking up a packet, opting for the “classic” variation of condoms. 

The store is lacking in lube, just stocking the inconvenient type that you rip out of a packet. He throws it in the basket anyway, smirking at how this is the second time in less than a week he’s found himself spontaneously buying lube in some grotty corner shop. It’s not like he’s expecting anything from the trip, the condoms and lube just an after thought in case he finds himself in a situation where they’re necessary. Having to hold off touching Harry like that because of lack of equipment would probably put him in his grave for good. 

He skips back to the car, throwing the plastic bag and it’s contents onto the back seat, before leaning over and hooking Harry’s chin with his pointer finger, placing their lips together and smiling into the kiss. 

“All good?” Harry asks when they break apart, dimples deep as ever.

“Perfect.” Louis responds, fastening his seatbelt as Harry starts up the ignition again. The CD they’d been listening to blasts back out through the speakers as the car jolts to life, Harry slotting it into gear, The 1975, one of Harry’s old favourites. 

They drive the rest of the way with the windows down, warm air spilling in and blowing Harry’s hair back off his face, rays of the sun hot against Louis’ arm that’s slung out of the window.

Louis watches Harry drive, how he holds the wheel almost carelessly with just two fingers hooked around it. The way he sings along to the track, hitting the notes without even having to try. “ _It’s just you and I tonight, why don’t you figure my heart out?”_

*

“If this could just fucking get in here.” Louis grumbles bent over a tent pole that refuses to slot itself into the correct position.

Harry stands over him, a hand resting on Louis’ lower back, almost like reassurance. “Maybe if you just move it to that side a bit…” Harry offers, gesturing with his foot.

Louis rolls his eyes, sighing. “Wow. Thanks, Harry. I’ve only tried that about six million times.”

“Don’t be rude.” Harry says, tone playful. 

Louis stands back up, letting the tent pole drop to the ground, brushing a sheen of sweat off his forehead. “Why is this so bloody hard?” He exasperates, cocking his hip and placing his hands on each of them. “It shouldn’t be this hard, should it?”

Harry laughs gently, “Let me do it, yeah? I don’t mind, honestly. You can blow up the air bed or something.”

Louis frowns, crossing his arms. “Well I can’t stop now, can I? I can’t let it win.”

Harry raises his eyebrows, a smirk creeping from the corners of his mouth. “It’s a tent, Lou.”

“Great observation skills. Really, fantastic.” He retorts, picking up the discarded pole and examining it.

He feels Harry slink behind him, wrapping his arms around his waist, speaking into his neck. “Would it be weird if I said you’re really hot when you’re pissed off? Your face gets all red and you do these really over exaggerated puffy breaths…”

“I get that you’re trying to seduce me and all,” Louis huffs out, “But I’m two seconds away from shoving this pole up your arse. And not in a kinky way.”

Harry snorts, his head dropping down against Louis’ shoulder as he laughs. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry. I’ll leave you be.” He presses a kiss against the hot skin of Louis’ neck. “I’ll be over there, just pumping up the airbed. Getting all hot and sweaty, might have to take my t-shirt off…”

Louis twists in Harry’s arms, slapping him playfully right in the balls. Harry doubles over, completely over exaggerated and for dramatic effect. 

“Bloody hell, watch it.” He whines, “You’ve got invested interest in these, you’re meant to look after your property.”

“Oh, so you’re my _property_ now?” Louis replies with a smirk. “I’ll be keeping that in mind.” He swears he sees Harry’s eyes actually darken at his words, a few seconds passing before Harry stumbles, pushing his hair back off his face.

“You do that.” His cheeks have gone a bit pink, “Anyway, I’m gonna get the airbed.”

Louis grins back at him, revelling in the affect his words seem to have had on Harry. He turns back to the tent, shaking himself off, trying to get the jitters out of him. He wipes his palms on his shirt, picking up the godforsaken tent pole once again. 

He takes a quick look over his shoulder, watching Harry fiddle with the nozzle on the airbed. He looks so beautiful like this, Louis thinks. A loose grey vest with thin straps that hangs off his chest, tight jeans, because what else? Curls falling over his face as he tilts his head down to adjust the pump. 

The outdoors suits him, green of the leaves and the grass bringing out the same hues in his eyes. The shadows from the branches of trees casting over his tall body in all the right places. Louis thinks Harry was probably a woodland creature in a previous life, maybe a stag. Doe eyes and long limbs, quiet and mystical, an enigma almost. He’s engrossing and engaging, everyone wants a glimpse of him. But Harry’s more than that, he’s cheeky and mischievous, too flirtatious and welcoming to be considered a mysterious creature of the forest. He’s just Harry, this wonderful combination of contradictions. Spontaneous and thoughtful, elusive and honest. He’s everything all at once and sometimes Louis’ head spins when he tries to put it all together.

Without thinking too much about it, Louis manages to slot the tent pole into the frame, threading it into the tent fabric and sighing in relief when it reaches the opposite end without incident. He works quietly for a while, putting the rest of it together and pegging it all down. As far as tents go, it’s not very big. It’ll just about fit the airbed in with a fair amount of head room above them. Louis can think of worse things than being squashed into a confined space with Harry. He completes the finishing touches, securing it all and unzipping the front so it opens out properly. Standing back, he observes his work, hands on his hips. It’s a little bit wonky, but it’s definitely a tent.

“Harry,” He calls, turning to look at him. “Told you I could do it.”

Harry pumps the last burst of air into the airbed, swivelling his body around to examine the tent. He brings his hand up to his face, shielding his eyes from the sun. “Sick,” He calls back, “Proud of you.”

 _Proud of you._ That’s a good feeling. Louis grins back at him, twisting his arms into his chest.

“Shall we put the bed in?” Harry calls.

Louis nods, skipping over to him. “I’ll grab the back, you get the front.”

They move it over together, pushing it past the opening of the tent and slotting it inside. It fits nicely, a little room either side for them to put the rest of their belongings. Harry holds his palm up in the air, waiting for a victory high five. Louis takes the bait, slapping his palm against Harry’s. He feels himself blush when Harry doesn’t move away, keeping their hands connected and waving them around. Louis’ stomach flutters when he looks at the way his fingers look next to Harry’s, so small and delicate, engulfed by the size of his.

“Now what?” Harry asks, dropping his palm finally.

“I wouldn’t mind kissing you for a bit.” Louis replies, smirking when Harry giggles softly, running his fingers through his hair. 

“I wouldn’t mind that either.” 

They don’t bother with finding a blanket from the car to lay on, the grass underneath them soft enough to lie comfortably. It’s slightly dewy still and Louis can feel the cool droplets of water tickling at the back of his t-shirt. When Harry lays down next to him, turning on his side so that they’re face to face, he can’t feel anything but the press of their knees knocking together.

Their faces are inches apart and it feels like their first kiss all over again, the wonder in Harry’s eyes and the heavy hammering of Louis’ heart against his ribcage. Harry leans in closer, features blurring as he reaches out and thumbs at the side of Louis’ mouth, one finger tucked under his chin.Louis lets his eyes fall shut, body shivering when he feels Harry’s arm wrap around his waist, pulling him in close. He mimics the gesture, slinging his arm around Harry and stroking softly up the back of his spine. Harry’s breath tickles against Louis’ mouth and he feels all the tension slip out of him when the warm air is replaced with the feel of soft lips against his own. Their mouths slide together, unhurried and without rush, just feeling. Louis slots his lips around Harry’s bottom one, sucking it gently and then placing a tiny peck against it when he lets go.

The sound of water rippling in the stream provides a backdrop, that and the chirping of birds just audible over the breeze that rustles the loose leaves in the trees behind them. Louis connects their lips again, still soft and with as much love behind it as he can muster. He can feel Harry sigh into him, their chests almost pressed together now. He runs his fingers along the curve of Harry’s spine, feeling the indents and ridges underneath the pads of his fingers.

Harry laughs gently into his mouth, breaking the kiss to mumble against his lips. “That tickles.”

Louis breaks into a smile, smoothing his hand against Harry’s back. “Sorry,” He whispers, even though there’s nobody around for miles to hear it, “Just can’t stop touching you.”

Harry kisses him again at that, their noses bumping together before their lips meet. It’s like syrup, slow and smooth and so, so sweet. 

They’re interrupted by a wet drop of moisture falling directly in-between their faces. Louis splutters, pulling away and wiping his face. Harry does the same, looking up to the sky with a look of confusion. “It was sunny as fuck like, literally two seconds ago.” 

Louis looks up, he must have missed the rain clouds rolling in, too focused on how good Harry feels against his mouth. 

“We should swim.” Louis blurts, watching the way the droplets are starting to leave little dark patches on Harry’s grey vest.

“Swim?”

“Mhm.” Louis nods, “If we’re gonna get wet we may as well get properly wet.”

Harry lets out a small laugh, “I didn’t bring swimming shorts or anything.”

Louis raises his eyebrows, thinking back to many a time at the bungalow where Harry would jump in his step dads pool, completely clad of clothes. “Like that ever stopped you before.” 

“Touche,” Harry retorts, shrugging. “Shall we get naked then?”

*

It sort of takes the wind out of Louis, seeing Harry naked. It’s not even like he’s not used to it, Harry’s never been shy towards the idea of nudity, it’s just…a lot to take in now. Like, that’s Harry’s body and Louis is allowed to touch whatever part of he wants to. He’s allowed to kiss and lick and suck and put his hands all over it. 

“Alright?” Harry asks him with a raised eyebrow and smirk once they’re stood nude in front of the water. 

“Great, yeah.” Louis replies, trying to keep his gaze above the waist. He crosses his own arms over his chest, hugging his sides. He can’t help but feel a little self conscious. He doesn’t have rippled abs or a bulging six pack or the most defined V lines in the world and he’s never been the most secure about his body. He watches Harry’s eyes drag slowly over his form as he replies and it makes him blush a hot pink. He rolls his eyes at himself when he remembers that Harry had him laid naked on a bed whilst he practically sucked the life out of him via his cock not even twenty four hours ago.

“Shall we jump in then?” 

Louis nods, edging closer to the water. “Will you hold my hand?”

Harry coos at him, extending his arm and holding out his hand for Louis to grab onto. “Are you scared?”

“Little bit.” Louis shivers as a rain drop trickles right down his spine.

Harry squeezes his fingers, his voice coming out deep and his gaze focusing directly on Louis’ eyes when he says, “I’ve got you.”

Louis nods slowly, taking Harry in. He knows the water is going to be cold, probably enough to take his breath away for a moment. It might get in his eyes and it’s definitely going to mess up his hair. None of that seems to matter though, not when he sees the way Harry is looking at him like he’s the best thing he’s ever laid eyes on. Not when he glances down to the way their fingers are interlocked, gripping tightly on to each other. Even the thought of the freezing water seems irrelevant when he remembers he’ll have Harry’s body heat to warm him right back up again.

“I’ve got you, too.” Louis tells him, catching Harry’s grin and offering his own back.

“On three?” Harry asks, turning his head to face the water.

Louis nods, taking a deep breath before counting out loud. “One, two,”

Harry joins in on three, both of them shouting the number out into the empty expanse of the woods.

Louis almost doesn’t feel the sensation of his feet leaving the ground, of launching himself into the air, hand in hand with Harry. He feels it when they hit the water though, whole body submerging underneath the surface. His eyes are shut tight and he hears the rush of water against his ears, the breathlessness and otherworldly feeling that being under water provides him with.

For a moment he feels suspended, in a vortex of silence and complete weightlessness, only familiarity being Harry’s fingers still gripping tight against his. His body pushes itself back up to the exterior and it’s loud and sharp when his head breaks the water barrier. The rain hammers against the surface of the lake, a downpour slapping against the smooth consistency, breaking it up like bullets against glass. 

He shakes his head, spraying the water from his hair and eyes, prising his lids open. Everything is blurry for a second before Harry comes into focus next to him. He’s grinning from ear to ear, hair soaking wet and sticking to his forehead, arms moving against the water, bringing his body in closer to Louis.

“It’s fucking freezing!” He calls out with a laugh over the noise of the rain and the gushing of water.

“I know!” Louis responds, flattening his hair back and treading water, torn between laughing and trying to take back the breath the sharp cold stole from him.

Louis watches as Harry ducks back under the surface, swimming steadily to the shallower depths where he can stand up. He follows suit, opting for a less stealthy swim above the water, not sure if he’s willing to expose his face to the freezing depths again.

Harry reaches the shallows first and when Louis gets there, he feels Harry’s fingers lace around his hips, holding him steady in front of him. The rain splatters around them and Louis giggles as a fat drop lands itself directly on the tip of Harry’s nose. 

Louis reaches down and holds Harry’s arm, bringing it above the water. “Now I know the reasoning behind the mermaid tattoo.” He grins, examining it carefully. “You swim just like one.”

Louis lets go of Harry’s arm and Harry automatically wraps it around Louis’ lower back, tugging him in close. “I’ll take that as a compliment.” He grins, closing the gap between them and connecting their cold lips, kissing softly until Louis can feel the heat in them again.

When they break apart, Louis tucks himself into Harry, face buried in Harry’s neck and arms wrapped tight around his back. He can feel Harry shivering underneath him, bare skin prickled with goosebumps. He runs his arms up Harry’s back and over his arms, rubbing them gently to warm him back up. He can barely feel the cold himself, maybe he’s become accustomed to it, or maybe Harry kissed it all out of him.

“Do you want to see a real mermaid trick?” Harry all but whispers, leaning back so he can look at Louis. Louis is half expecting his hair to grow seven inches down to his waist and a tail to appear from his bottom end before he splashes off into the sunset, there’s not much about Harry that would surprise him.

“Go for it.” He replies, letting go of Harry’s torso and stepping back, bending his knees and submerging his upper body back in the water, it acts like a insulation against the chill of the breeze and the raindrops above.

Harry dives back down, leaving a ripple in his wake. Louis watches his form under the water, can just make it out beneath the blue. He loses Harry from his eyesight momentarily, the lake swallowing up the shadows of his body.

The next thing Louis sees is a pair of feet breaking through the surface, Harry’s long legs extending upwards into the perfect handstand. Louis raises his eyebrows, eyes wide, as more of Harry’s body pops up above the water. To his disappointment, Harry remains submerged up until the middle of his thighs, leaving what’s left of his modesty intact.

He sustains the pose for a fair few seconds before his legs start to wobble and he folds in on himself, flopping back down into the water. When he submerges, Louis gives him a thumbs up. “Very impressive!” He shouts over, laughing when Harry gives him a twirl, hands above his head like a ballerina. 

Before he knows it, Harry’s swum his way back over, closing in on his space again, linking his hands behind Louis’ neck. “Your nose is all red.” He chuckles, bumping it against his own. “Are you cold?”

Louis nods, putting his hands on Harry’s hips and rubbing their noses together again. “Extremely.” Louis gives him a once over, raking his eyes up Harry’s bare chest, not bothering to be subtle. “You lied.” Louis states.

Harry furrows his eyebrows, bewildered expression. “What?”

“When you stayed round mine you told me your hair reaches just about here,” He squints, pointing to a place on Harry’s chest, “When it’s wet. You were at least a few centimetres off.”

Harry rolls his eyes, “I’m very sorry to let you down, Louis.”

“You should be.” Louis smirks, “I’m deeply offended.”

“I’m glad you got to see the evidence for yourself though.” 

Louis raises his eyebrows, tightening his grips on Harry’s hips. “Mm, I’m glad too.”

Harry lines their bodies up under water, and Louis sucks in a sharp breath when he feels Harry’s thigh against his cock. He’s soft, the freezing cold making it impossible to be anything but, yet it still makes his toes curl.

“Can you believe we’re skinny dipping in a lake in California?” Harry whispers against Louis’ dripping wet hair.

“Not really, to be honest.” Louis laughs, digging his fingers into the soft flesh above Harry’s hips.

“I don’t want it to be tomorrow,” Harry sighs, dropping his forehead against Louis shoulder. “Don’t wanna go back.”

“Hey.” Louis interjects, holding Harry’s hips and pulling apart, looking Harry in the eye. “None of that tonight, yeah? No talking about the band or management or meetings or any of that shit.” He leans in to rest his forehead against Harry’s, stretching up on his tiptoes. “Just me and you tonight. Just us.”

“Just us.” Harry repeats, leaning in for a kiss.

Louis gives him it, happily. He slots his lips against Harry’s, keeping them still for a moment, breathing him in. He feels Harry’s lips part against his own and Louis kisses him properly, tender and slow, as natural as the lake that ripples around them.

When they move apart, Harry gives him a closed lip smile, reaching out to pinch a long strand of Louis’ hair between his fingers, running it through them. “Were you scared?” He asks softly, tucking the strand behind Louis’ ear. “When you realised?”

Louis blinks at him, taking in his words. “When I realised…?” 

“That you liked boys?”

Louis swallows, shivering slightly at the cold of the water, the rain has stopped but the breeze persists, raising goosebumps on his arms. “Terrified.”

Harry bites his lip, reaching for Louis’ hand under the water. He takes it into his own, interlocking their fingers. “I was too. Not scared for myself, but scared about what everyone else would think.” Harry’s voice is thin, like it’s pulled tight in his throat. “I dunno though, being here with you makes that all go away. Like, look at us. We’re so good together, Lou. I’m stood stark naked in a lake in the rain and I don’t even feel cold because you’re here with me and all I can feel around you is warm.” He lets out a deep breath, eyes blinking fast like he’s trying to keep his composure. “I know _this_ is right. I know we’re right. I know that now.”

Louis feels frozen still for a moment, Harry’s words playing out in front of him. His throat burns and he swallows a lump. “Can we get out of the water so I cuddle you properly?”

Harry lets out a laugh, nodding his head. “I’ll grab you a towel.”

*

They wrap each other up in towels, soft and plush, all white and smelling of Harry’s washing powder. When they’re dry they find fresh clothes in the bags they packed, slipping into jogging bottoms and t-shirts, nothing on their feet.

The rain has eased off and the clouds seem to be dispersing, separating and leaving room in the sky for the lazy afternoon blues to be seen again. They sit at the edge of their tent with the zip door open, legs stretched out on the grass in front of them. 

Louis cracks open the bottle of wine he picked up. They sip it from the bottle, forgetting to pack glasses. It’s rich and heavy on Louis’ tongue and he can taste it on Harry’s lips when he steals kisses between sips. 

When Harry isn’t drinking, he rests his head against Louis’ shoulder, damp hair leaving a darkening patch against the light cotton. They’re both quiet, the sounds of the outdoors playing like a track behind them. Their tent looks out over the lake and every now and then Louis will spot something that grabs his attention, a bird that swoops in and settles on the water, the way the wind brushes the reeves against the surface, breaking it up and creating patterns. He’ll point it out to Harry, Harry drinking in the information like the wine that passes his lips, like it’s the most delicious thing in the world.

“Do you mind if I have a cigarette?” Louis asks him, his voice delicate.

Harry lifts his head from against Louis’ shoulder, shaking it softly. “Go for it.”

He stretches behind him for his backpack, taking out a pack and a lighter. Harry watches intently as Louis holds it between his lips, flicking the wheel on the lighter and sucking the smoke in before breathing it back out in a neat line. 

“Can I have a drag?” Harry drawls, low and lazy.

Louis nods, “Open your mouth.”

Harry takes the order without hesitation, eyes smiling back at Louis as he parts his lips. Louis takes the cigarette between his thumb and forefinger, holding it like a joint. He places it between Harry’s lips, holding it there while he inhales, taking it away and putting it back between his own lips as Harry blows the smoke out.

They finish it together, Louis smoking the most of it and Harry taking drags every so often. Louis flips the lighter around in his hand, idly playing with it whilst he watches the sky darken above him. He hasn’t checked his phone since they got here, completely clueless as to what the the time is. It’s not dark, not even really dusk yet. That time of day where the sun has disappeared behind the horizon and the first hints of yellows and reds start to bleed through the very bottom of the sky.

Suddenly, Louis remembers the candles he’s stocked up on at the shop. He sits up, squeezing Harry’s thigh, whispering “I’ll be back,” as he stumbles over to the car. He finds them in the backseat, along with the packet of marshmallows he’d grabbed. He stuffs them into his arms along with the wooden skewers, although they haven’t bothered to make a fire to toast them on, marshmallows are always a winner.

When he stumbles back into the tent, Harry’s wrapped a blanket around his shoulders. He holds it open, welcoming Louis to burrow himself under it with him. Louis doesn't hesitate to squash in next to Harry, grinning with bright eyes as Harry wraps his arm around Louis’ waist, draping the blanket over him.

“Marshmallows.” Louis states, ripping open the plastic and popping one into his mouth. He holds the bag out to Harry, offering him one.

Harry just drops his mouth open, tongue out. “Feed me.”

Louis snorts, “Is this gonna be a thing now? Feeding each other?”

Harry shrugs, corners of his mouth raised in a smirk. “If you like it.”

“I do.” Louis replies simply, taking a marshmallow and placing it between Harry’s lips. Harry holds it there, nodding his head closer to Louis’. Louis rolls his eyes, laughing. “Seriously?” 

Harry just quirks one eyebrow up at him, tilting his head slightly. Chuckling, Louis leans in and sinks his teeth into the soft stickiness of the marshmallow, his nose knocking against Harry’s. He feels Harry laugh, a little puff of air tickling his face as they move apart. 

“I’m all sticky.” Harry whines, licking his lips in an over exaggerated motion.

“Wouldn’t the first time.” Louis quips, looking up at Harry from under his eyelashes. Harry pokes his ribs, making him squawk. “Don’t!” Louis protests, “I’m _ticklish._ ”

“Oh, I know.” Harry replies, diving back in with both hands and going for both sides of Louis’ torso. Louis squirms, alternating between giggling breathlessly and telling Harry to fuck off, helplessly trying to bat his hands away. Harry grabs at Louis’ wrists, holding them both with one hand whilst he jabs at Louis with the other. 

“That’s not fair, you fucking giant!” He cries, wriggling around under his hold, almost out of breath. 

“Be nice.” Harry retorts, holding his wrists tighter and tickling relentlessly.

“Never.” Louis practically whimpers back, fits of giggles overtaking him.

In one quick motion Harry gets on his knees, pushing at Louis’ chest and knocking him down onto his back, legs still sticking out of the tent, the rest of his body spread over the air mattress. He slings one leg over Louis, effectively pinning him down. Interesting.

Louis takes the opportunity to get Harry, trailing his hands up Harry’s chest and poking him all over, getting him right in the ribs and making them both collapse into a heap of breathlessness and laughter. 

Harry’s leaning over him now, knees bracketing him and hands roaming all over his body, not even really tickling anymore as much as just feeling. Louis’ not fairing much better, the pinching and prodding turning more into caressing than anything else. They’re both still laughing, Harry’s breath laboured with how much he is, eyes all crinkly and dimples as deep as craters. Louis balls up Harry’s t-shirt in his fist, pulling him in closer. He whispers softly between shallow breaths, “Kiss me.”

Harry lets himself drop onto his elbows, closing the space between their bodies, pressing their chests together. He brushes Louis’ hair out of his face, his own falling down against Louis’ skin. Louis reaches up and tucks it behind Harry’s ear, breath still heavy in their throats as the last remaining bit of space between their lips closes up completely.

Louis sighs into the kiss, hands shooting straight to Harry’s back, pulling him in as close as he can get. He smells like outdoors, like the leaves in the forest and the earth below them. He’s warm all over, Louis can feel the heat of his skin through his t-shirt, can taste the fire burning against his lips. 

Louis doesn’t know where it comes from, but the laughing and playfulness is quickly forgotten and it soon becomes something more. Desperation, need. Like he can’t get himself close enough to Harry, like no matter how hard he presses their lips together, how tightly he grips at Harry’s back, it’s still not _enough._

He wants to soak up every inch of Harry, feel him all over, let himself get lost in the way Harry’s body feels next to his. The way their lips slide together, how Harry licks into his mouth, hard and fast and then slow and lazy. It’s so much all at once because it’s _Harry._ He’s overwhelming and Louis can feel himself going crazy with it, latching on to Harry like a limpet, fingers cramping from how tightly he’s gripping at his shirt.

Harry must sense it, must feel the way Louis’ is reacting to his touch, to his kiss. The way his breath catches in his throat every time Harry moves a muscle, how Louis is kissing him so hard it almost feels bruising. He must sense it because Harry flips them over, pulling Louis on top and letting him take whatever he wants from him, palms spanning across the expanse of Louis’ lower back.

Louis rolls his hips, rocking them down against Harry’s crotch involuntarily and without even thinking about it, the both of them sucking in a sharp breath when it happens. Louis moves his mouth away from Harry, swallowing hard and breathing heavy. He takes a moment to gauge his reaction, waiting for tentativeness or uncertainty. 

When he doesn’t get it, he leans in closer, burying his head in Harry’s neck. He touches his lips to Harry’s pulse point, feeling it pound against the skin there. He sucks in a shaky breath, gathering up the momentum for the words he’s trying to find.

“I want you.” He breathes into Harry’s ear, eyelashes fluttering shut when he feels him shiver at his words.

Harry drags his palms down Louis’ back, slow and deliberate. Louis’ breath catches in his throat when Harry places them over his ass, squeezing once before whispering back at him, “You’ve got me.” He connects their lips again, an open mouthed kiss, slow and languid. He tilts his head, muttering against Louis’ lips. “You’ve got me.”

Louis pulls Harry’s bottom lip between his teeth, sinking them into the pink plumpness of it, pulling it out before letting go and jamming their mouths back together again. It’s the fastest kiss they’ve shared, lips moving against each other like every second they spend apart is too long. Harry’s hands run all over Louis, across his back, tangling in his hair, kneading at his ass. Louis grips Harry’s bicep, holding it tight like it’s anchoring him down. He feels Harry’s warm fingertips dance up under his shirt, tracing over the line of his ribs and flattening against the small of his back. He tries to nod into the kiss, tries to encourage Harry to keep going, keep touching him like that.

He feels Harry’s blunt nails scrape down his sides, stopping when they reach the hem of his shirt. Louis breathes in sharply when he feels Harry take the fabric between his fingertips, pulling it up slightly over Louis’ back so that his stomach is exposed.

“Can I?” Harry whispers into Louis’ mouth, edging the shirt up further. 

“Yeah,” Louis breathes, detaching his lips from Harry’s and sitting himself up straight so Harry can tug it off him completely. 

It goes still for a moment after Harry gets Louis’ shirt off and throws it to the side. Louis’ sitting upright on his knees above Harry, and it takes his breath away when he looks down and meets his eye. Harry’s on his elbows, eyes glassy and bottom lip drawn between his teeth, he’s just staring, watching Louis. Louis feels himself shudder at the way Harry looks at him, eyes dragging up his body and practically twinkling when they reach Louis’.

“ _Fuck._ ” Harry exhales on a shaky breath before lurching upright to connect their lips again. He wraps his arms around Louis’ waist, pulling him in impossibly close. Louis nudges himself up, sitting completely in Harry’s lap. He feels on fire, squirming shirtless in Harry’s lap whilst Harry is still fully clothed and kissing him like his life depends on it.

He decides to do something about that, moving his fingers down and rucking up Harry’s shirt, lifting it up, not moving his mouth way from Harry’s until the shirt reaches his armpits and there’s no way to get it off without moving apart.

The sensation of skin against skin is overwhelming, the feeling of Harry’s warm chest plastered against his almost too much to handle. Louis lets his head fall back, almost choking on a breath when Harry starts to mouth against the skin there. He leaves open mouth kisses all along the column on Louis’ neck, stopping when he reaches the junction in his jaw and focusing his attention, biting down and sucking hard. Louis doesn’t know when it happened but they’ve started to rock with each other, both their hips moving back and forth in unfocused motions.

He can feel arousal stir in his stomach, he’s not hard yet but if this keeps going he’ll get there in no time. It’s only heightened when Harry moves his mouth from Louis’ neck, kissing down it and mouthing over his collarbones. He digs his thumbs into Louis’ hips as he leans back, hunching his back and reaching in to lick at Louis’ nipples. Louis lets out a quiet whine, hands moving to grab at Harry’s hair, keeping him close. Harry's tongue traces around one in a circle, little tentative licks over the nub that make Louis shiver. He arches his back, head lolling backwards when Harry starts to suck, sharp teeth nipping gently.

Louis can’t handle it any more, he scoops up Harry’s head in his hands, prizing it away from his chest and smashing their mouths together instead, tongues meeting before lips do. He holds Harry’s face, tilts is upwards so he can give himself better access, get a deeper angle, create negative space. Harry’s hands slip underneath him, cupping his ass, squeezing as they kiss. The rocking has become more conscious now, steady movements that ripple both of their bodies together. Louis can feel the hardening under Harry’s joggers, feels it pressing into him when he rocks down into Harry’s lap.

Louis swallows, spreading his palms flat against Harry’s chest and pushing him backwards, lowering him down until he’s flat on his back against the air mattress. Harry goes easily, lying back, letting his elbows give way until he’s completely horizontal, Louis perched in his lap. Louis licks his lips, fanning out his palms and dragging them over Harry’s chest. He’s goes from the bottom up, smoothing over Harry’s stomach, up against his ribcage and over his nipples, gaining a mewl of content from Harry when he does. 

He works them back down, keeps going, their eyes locked together, Harry watching his every move. When Louis reaches the laurel leaves, he pauses, scratching them gently with his nails. Harry’s looking up at him, his pupils blown. He nods his head, slowly and with his mouth lolled open.

Louis sucks in a heavy breath, cupping Harry’s chin with one hand before ducking his head down and attaching their lips. It’s _hot_. There’s no other word for it, really. It’s hot and heavy and Louis can’t seem to stop the way his hips are rolling back and forth into Harry as their tongues flick past each other.

Without breaking the kiss, Louis takes his other hand away from Harry’s laurels. He keeps it on his skin though, moving it slow and with purpose, down past the waistband on Harry’s joggers.He feels it straight away, the heavy line of Harry’s cock pressing against the material of his joggers. Harry’s breathing stutters and Louis feels him shiver when Louis takes the tips of his fingers, stroking them against his bulge, teasing, barely there. Harry breaks the kiss, mouthing his mouth away to suck a sharp breath in, soft moan leaving his lips when Louis wraps his palm around Harry’s cock through his joggers. 

“Okay?” Louis murmurs, dragging his fist over the material, hand shaking as he feels Harry grow harder under his touch.

“Yeah,” Harry breathes, squirming slightly under Louis’ touch. “Just-“ He exhales, his head dropping back as Louis starts to mouth over his neck. “Can you just-“

“Just what?” Louis mumbles against his neck, sucking softly whilst palming Harry’s length in steady motions.

“ _Ah_ , can you-“ He cuts off, losing his words when Louis curls his fingers, squeezing.

“What do you want?” Louis whispers, sultry. 

“Zip the tent.” Harry whines, head still lolled back.

Louis draws his eyebrows together, breaking away from Harry’s neck, confused expression. “Zip the tent?” He repeats, questioning. “That a euphemism, or?”

Harry laughs breathlessly, flipping his head back forward and smirking. “No, I mean literally, can you zip the tent shut?”

Louis blinks back at him, palm still hovering over his cock. “Any particular reason why?”

“Well, just seems practical doesn’t it? Don’t want a racoon or something crawling in when we’re…y’know.”

Louis just widens his eyes, laugh spilling out of his throat. “I was trying to be all sexy and you were just thinking about racoons.” 

“You don’t have to _try_ to be sexy. And I was thinking about more than just racoons.”

Louis quirks his eyebrows up, wrapping his arms around Harry’s neck. “Mm, yeah? Like what?”

Harry purses his lips, looking upward like he’s trying to recall a memory. “Oh, I don’t know. Your mouth. Your hands.” He hums, sliding his own hands down Louis’ bare back. “Your arse.”

Louis bites his lip, fingers playing with Harry’s long hair that slips down over his neck. “Yeah?” 

Harry’s hands reach under Louis, cupping his ass. He squeezes, kneading the soft flesh there. Louis looses his breath completely when Harry spreads his cheeks through his joggers, almost lifting him off his lap.

“Yeah.” Harry replies, looking back up at him through his eyelashes. Louis lurches forward, kissing him, because that seems like the solution to any situation. Harry keeps his hands on his ass they kiss, squeezing and kneading it like he can’t get enough. Louis’ leans forward, putting his hands on Harry’s chest and pushing him back against the air mattress, clambering on top of him. Harry lets him, falling back all pliant, going wherever Louis takes him. 

“Lou,” Harry whispers against his mouth. “Tent zip.”

Louis rolls his eyes, separating their mouths, leaving a series of quick pecks against Harry’s lips before he sits up, moving off him. He wriggles to turn around, manoeuvre difficult in the cramped interior of the tent. He crawls over, zipping the entrance to the tent up, closing them in. His backpack sits next to the zipper and Louis remembers the trip he made to the convenience store, the condoms and lube he’d stuffed into the front pocket. He bites his lip, contemplating his next move. This is obviously going somewhere, but is it about to go _that_ far? He doesn’t want to freak Harry out by presenting him with condoms out of the blue.

His train of thought is interrupted by Harry clearing his throat behind him. “Um, while you’re there…” He begins, propping himself up on his elbows to look at Louis, “In my bag. There’s, um, there’s…uh, well I brought some stuff just, like, incase-“ 

Louis’ eyes widen, smirk spreading across his face as Harry fumbles. “What sorta stuff?” Louis toys, enjoying Harry’s squirming just a little too much.

“Like, well… lube.” Harry blurts out, “There’s a packet of condoms too. But, we don’t have to. If you’re not ready, I just thought-“

Louis cuts him off by diving into his own bag, pulling out the strip of condoms he’d picked up at the shop and waving them around, watching Harry’s eyes darken. “I brought some too.” Louis confesses, smirking back at Harry. “Guess we’re on the same wavelength?”

Louis laughs as Harry lets himself flop onto his back again, slinging an arm over his forehead. Louis opts for the lube in Harry’s bag, it looks a lot fancier and easier to use, in a bottle rather than a bit of paper packaging. 

He takes the condoms and lube, crawling back over to Harry, straddling his waist again. He sets them down on the floor next to the airbed, patting the ground. “I’ll just leave these here.”

Harry nods, placing his hands on Louis’ waist and holding him steady. “Do you want to talk about it first?”

Louis shakes his head, smoothing his palms over Harry’s stomach. “No.” He states, rolling his hips, feeling Harry’s cock press against his ass. “I want you to fuck me.”

Harry shudders, hold tightening on Louis’ hips, guiding them back and forth and Louis rocks steadily on top of him. “You’ve never-“

Louis swallows, fingers touching all over Harry’s bare chest. “I know. But I trust you.” He leans forward, caressing Harry’s jaw with the pad of his thumb. “You’ll take care of me.”

Harry nods like he’s in a trance, eyes dancing all over Louis’ body. He slides his hands up from Louis’ waist, over his back, tugging him down so their bodies are touching everywhere it’s possible to be. Louis lets Harry kiss him as hard as he can for a few moments, biting at his lips and brushing their tongues past each other, hungry for it.

The atmosphere changes for a moment as they break apart from the kiss, Harry lying below Louis. He’s looking up into his eyes, glance unfaltering and steady and it takes Louis’ breath away when he looks back. Harry swipes his fingers through Louis’ hair, brushing against his cheek with the back of his knuckles. “Louis,” He breathes out, chest heaving. “God, I never thought I’d get to do this.”

Louis looks down at him, his hand trembling as he swipes his thumb over Harry’s bottom lip. “I want you so much.” Is all he can manage to get out, hand slinking back down Harry’s body, smoothing over the tattoo’s, the one’s he knows, the one’s he doesn’t. He curls his fingers around the waistband of Harry’s joggers, feeling the hot skin of Harry’s hips pressing into his knuckles. 

“Yeah,” Harry whispers, bucking his hips up, giving Louis better access. In a quick motion, Louis tugs them down over Harry’s thighs, Harry using his own arm to pull them the rest of the way off. 

“ _Jesus,_ ” Louis lets out, taking in Harry’s body. He’s rock hard by this point, cock bobbing obscenely against his hip. Harry doesn’t give him much time to ogle before he reaches up and fiddles with Louis’ waistband, shooting him a questioning look. Louis nods moving aside and letting Harry pull his joggers off. He throws them aside, next to his on the tent floor. 

Harry crawls back on top of Louis, pushing him down gently against the mattress. Their lips sliding together, deliciously slow. Everything is amplified now that they’re naked, every flick of tongue or nipping of teeth, hands roaming anywhere they can reach, shivers spiking up spines.

Louis’ extends his arm, reaching down and wrapping his fingers around the base of Harry’s cock. Harry keens, letting out a heavy breath and a low moan, jaw clenching. He buries his face in Louis’ neck, sucking at the thin skin there whilst Louis’ works his fist over Harry’s shaft, dragging in steady motions. 

Harry’s lips leave Louis’ neck and find his mouth instead. Louis’ twists at the base of Harry’s cock, pulling his foreskin up and then back down, slow paced then fast. Harry can’t kiss him back properly, just moans into his mouth as Louis works him.

Harry breaks apart, pulling his hips away from Louis’ hands. He pants, “M’not gonna last long if you keep going.”

Louis nods, putting his hands on Harry’s ass instead, smoothing his palms all over his cheeks, letting his fingers slip dangerously close to the place Louis is interested in touching the most.

He feels Harry start to slide down his body, dragging his mouth down over his torso, peppering kisses along Louis’ skin. Louis arches his back up to Harry’s touch, craving the feeling of Harry’s wet lips and pointed tongue tracing teasing little strokes all over him. 

Harry seems to pay special attention to Louis’ stomach, kissing all over it. His hair falls against Louis’ skin, tickling him, making the muscles in his belly twitch. Louis runs his fingers through it, brushing it back off Harry’s face. 

“ _Harry,_ ” He breathes, applying a slight pressure to Harry’s head, encouraging him to move further south. 

Harry looks up at him, maintains eye contact as he flicks his tongue out, all pointed and sharp. He keeps his eyes locked on Louis as he laps, just once at the tip of Louis’ cock.

Louis arches his back up off the mattress, a high whine falling from his lips as Harry goes back to nibbling at his hipbones. _Tease_ , Louis thinks, threading his fingers back through Harry’s hair.

Harry wriggles further down the mattress, lying on his stomach now between Louis’ legs. Involuntarily, Louis finds himself spreading them for Harry, his ankles digging in to the foamy material. _God_ this is so intimate, he’s never let anybody get this close to him before, nobody’s had him spreading his legs like this, so on display. It doesn’t even feel scary, no twang of embarrassment, not when it’s Harry. Not when Harry’s kissing all up the inside of Louis’ thighs, Harry’s hips stuttering back and forth like that act alone is turning him on so much he can’t resist. 

Harry nips his sharp teeth into the paper thin skin of Louis’ inner thigh, it makes Louis pull away at first, not used to the sensation. Harry laps over the mark with his tongue, soothing it and drawing Louis right back in again, desperate for more. “Fuck, feels good.” Louis sighs, running his hands through his own hair. “Nobody’s ever, _ah_ , done that before. Not there, anyway.”

Harry doesn’t respond, just noses further up Louis’ thigh, and _fuck_ he’s getting near. Only a few centimetres between Harry’s mouth and Louis’ balls. Louis shivers with anticipation, desperate to feel Harry’s tongue against his cock again.

“Gonna suck you off, yeah?” Harry mumbles, looking up at Louis from between his legs.

Louis just nods, bringing his hand down to stroke Harry’s hair. “God, _yeah._ ”

Harry’s long, lean fingers wrap around the base of Louis’ cock and all he can do is sink his teeth into his bottom lip and let out a low whine. The breath is knocked out of him when he feels Harry’s wet mouth against his tip, shudders when he slides past his lips, feeling his tongue dragging along the bottom. 

Louis tightens his grip in Harry’s hair, using his other hand to fist into the thin sheet covering the mattress. It spurs Harry on, taking more of Louis into his mouth. He bobs his head over the first few inches, using his hand to move slowly along the parts he doesn’t have covered yet. He looks beautiful. His eyes are closed, not jammed shut, almost like he’s resting. It’s dark inside the tent, muffled sunlight not able to break though the interior, but he can still make out Harry. The way his back is bent over, the muscles in his big, broad shoulders flexing. His hair falls against Louis’ pelvis, tickling his softly as he sucks with his mouth.

Harry hollows his cheeks, lips tight around Louis’ cock like a vice. He moves down slow, sliding up fast and repeating the motion, making Louis’ head spin. “Fucking _hell_ , Harry.” Louis mewls, bucking his hips up just the smallest fraction, thighs shaking when Harry takes him further. He moans and it comes out shaky and high pitched, too turned on the be embarrassed by it. 

It’s driving him mad, the thought of what’s to come. Harry’s stroking his thigh with his free hand, fingers getting ever closer to the inside of it. Louis adjusts his weight, turning his hips slightly, knocking Harry’s hand further down, past his balls.

Harry looks up at him, pops his lips off the tip of Louis’ cock. He looks him right in the eyes, trailing his fingers right down. Louis’ stomach muscles jump when he feels Harry’s finger tips just graze over his hole, barely even touching it. He hisses, arching his back when Harry repeats the motion, this time with more purpose.

“This what you want?” Harry whispers, mouth pressing against Louis’ hip. Louis nods frantically, reaching a hand down to grip Harry’s wrist, holding it there.

“Want you to hurry up.” Louis huffs, leading Harry’s hand back to where he needs it. Harry lets out a choked laugh, reaching with his free hand to grab the lube from where Louis’ set it down. He keeps tracing over the sensitive skin with his other hand, ghosting over Louis’ hole, raising goosebumps all over his body.

Louis hears him snap the lid open on the bottle, heart pounding in his chest as Harry takes his hand away, pouring a slick coating of lube over his fingers. 

“Tell me if you want to stop.” Harry murmurs before ducking back down. He holds Louis’ ankle, hooking it over his shoulder, giving him better access. He wraps his dry hand around Louis’ cock again, eliciting a gentle “ah,” from Louis’ lips. He laps at Louis’ tip, neat figures of eight around his slit before sucking it in properly, slurping wetly at the head.

“Fuck, _Har_ -“ He begins, but he cuts himself off with a choke when he feels Harry’s finger prod at his entrance, questioning. 

Harry keeps sucking him, slow and steady, swirling his tongue. Louis squirms under his touch, sensory overload almost setting in. It’s so much, Harry’s mouth on his cock, fingers on one hand digging into his waist, the others slowly starting to push inside him.

It burns, Harry’s fingers are so big, bigger than Louis’. Even just one feels like a stretch, not even past the second knuckle yet. Harry moves it slow, trying to take Louis’ mind away from the sharpness with the practised slide of his tongue against Louis’ slit.

Louis wriggles his hips, trying to get him in further. He practically shouts Harry’s name when he feels his knuckle against his rim, cold metal of his ring pressing against him.

Harry takes his mouth away from Louis’ cock, still stroking slow with his hand. He’s breathless, pupils blown when he looks up at Louis. “You feel fucking amazing.”

Louis sucks in a sharp breath, his toes curling and fingers gripping at the sheet. “Keep going.”

Harry nods at him, moving his finger slow in and out of Louis. Louis props himself up on his elbows to watch Harry work and it almost blows his mind. Harry’s resting his cheek against the inside of Louis’ thigh, watching every move he makes with a bitten lip. Louis can see him tracing the movement of his finger with his eyes, the way it slides inside of Louis’ body. 

“Another.” Louis whimpers, unable to do much but just take what Harry gives him. Harry breathes in heavily, taking his finger out. When Louis feels it there again, it’s accompanied by another digit, long and slender. 

He sucks in a sharp breath, clenching his fists as Harry pushes in. It’s a lot. He lets out a series of small moans, all shaky and high in his throat. It feels amazing but it still _stings_ , a sharp sensation that he wants to get away from but wants to overpower him all at once.

Harry kisses over his thighs, sucking gently like he’s trying to counteract the harshness he must know Louis is feeling. 

Harry pushes further in with his two fingers, steady and slow and _that’s_ when it hits Louis. “ _Fuck,_ ” He calls out, back arching off the bed. Harry brings him back down with his hand wrapped around his hip, a smirk twitching at his lips.

“That feel good?” Harry asks him, all coy. Before Louis can reply, Harry rubs at the same spot again, nipping at Louis’ sensitive skin.

“ _God_ , right there.” Louis hisses, hips rolling up to Harry, body tingling all over. “ _So good._ ”

“Yeah?” Harry responds, slamming his fingers back inside, brushing over that spot again. It makes Louis shiver, every nerve ending on his body feels exposed. _Fuck_ this is only two fingers. This isn’t even a fraction of what it’ll feel like when Harry gets inside him properly. He wants it so badly.

Harry’s picking up the pace now, fingering him fast and with purpose. He keeps switching the angle, curling his fingers then spreading them inside Louis, and _shit_ does that feel incredible. “Harry,” He moans, running his hands through his own hair and over his chest when Harry scissors his fingers inside him again, stretching him good. Louis head drops back, a low moan spilling from his lips when he feels Harry press another finger against his entrance. “Yeah,” Louis chants, “ _Yeah,_ ” Harry shuffles upwards, taking Louis’ cock back into his mouth, sucking at the head. 

“ _Ah_ , Harry.” Louis huffs, pulling at Harry’s hair, needing something to ground him. The pleasure from Harry’s mouth almost takes the pain away from his fingers, almost washes out that hot burn. Almost.

“You good?” Harry murmurs, taking his mouth away from Louis’ cock to look up at him.

Louis exhales shakily. “Could say that.”

Harry smirks at him, his cheeks flushed pink. He extends his body, leaning up to kiss Louis, keeping his fingers where they are. Louis sighs into the kiss, grabbing at the back of Harry’s neck and pulling him in close, kissing him back hard and bruising.

Harry thrusts in again, new angle giving Louis a different sensation. He kicks his leg out, flailing when Harry curls his fingertips inside him, rubbing at that spot. Harry’s rolling his own hips down steadily and Louis has to break the kiss, moaning into thin air when their cocks bump against each other.

Harry mouths at his neck, latching on and sucking a reddening bruise there whilst he slides his fingers into Louis’ body, quickening his pace now. Louis feels him start to prod with his third, like a question. “Ready?” Harry asks him, breathing the word into his neck, raising goosebumps all up Louis’ arms.

He rocks his hips down in response, like he’s trying to draw Harry inside. “ _Yes_ ,” He hisses back. He’s ready. Ready for a third finger. Ready for anything Harry wants to give him.

He hears the cap pop open on the lube again, Harry slicking up his fingers once more. Louis holds his breath, waiting for the feeling. Wants to feel full, wants Harry everywhere all at once. On his mouth, on his cock, inside him, all over him. 

He throws his head back against the mattress when Harry presses in again, a high pitched whine leaving his lips. He tightens all the muscles in his body, clenching and flexing, trying to work through the stretch. It’s delicious. Edging the line between too much and not nearly enough, pain and indescribable pleasure. He babbles senselessly, panting into Harry’s mouth when he moves to kiss him through it. 

Harry bites at Louis’ bottom lip, drawing it between his teeth as he pushes his fingers inside. He tugs at it, only letting go when his fingers are drawn in down to the last knuckle. He holds himself still there, breathing heavily before connecting their lips again. This time Louis finds it in him to kiss back and it’s slow and sweet and such a stark contrast to the way Harry’s moving his fingers fast and hard inside Louis’ now. 

“Shit, Harry.” Louis pants when Harry breaks the kiss, opting for mouthing down his chest instead. “So good.” Is all he can manage to get out, those two words not even coming close to covering what he’s feeling.

Harry looks up at him, drawing his fingers almost all the way out before slamming back in. Louis cries out, slinging his arm over his face as Harry starts to lick over his collarbones. He moves further down, craning his neck so he can suck Louis’ nipple into his mouth. 

Louis arches off the bed, overwhelmed at the sensation of Harry’s mouth and fingers. He spreads his fingers inside Louis, stretching him open whilst flicking over his nipple with a pointed tongue. It’s fucking intoxicating. 

He feels so on edge, like his whole body is a live wire. Every where Harry touches him, sparks fly from. His free hand clutching at Louis’ hip, then his thigh, over his ribcage and flattening against his stomach. His mouth, sucking at Louis’ nipples, kissing over his sweat slick skin, licking past his lips. And his fingers, _fuck_ , his fingers. It’s so much, stretching him open and thrusting inside, rubbing over that place inside him over and over, relentless. 

He doesn’t even realise he’s making sounds but Harry takes his fingers out, eyes looking up to Louis, searching. “You want it?”

Louis nods back, _god_ does he want it. “Harry, please. I’m- _fuck_ , I’m ready.” He manages to get out, chest heaving.

Harry’s mouth hangs open, eyes hooded and lips plump and red as he takes in Louis’ words. His voice drops, deeper than Louis has ever heard it before. “How do you want it?”

Louis doesn’t know, he doesn’t know anything apart from Harry. Harry, Harry, Harry. “I don’t know,” He whimpers, feeble, voice shot.

Harry scoops Louis up in his arms, moving them so that Harry is sat on the mattress, Louis kneeling between his legs. He puts his hands on Louis’ hips, holding him steady. “It’ll be easier for you, like this.” He pauses, meeting Louis’ eye. “You, on top. Take me at your own pace, yeah?”

Louis feels himself shudder at Harry’s words, twinge of nerves in his stomach as he looks down at Harry’s hard length. It’s a lot, he’s so much. As turned on as he is, he still manages to let out a nervous giggle. “You’re really big.”

He watches Harry duck his head, dimples appearing in his cheeks. “Thanks.”

Louis takes Harry into his hand, stroking his length slowly, toying with him. He preens at the way Harry sinks his teeth into his bottom lip, breath faltering. “ _Louis,_ ” He exhales, hips stuttering upwards.

Louis keeps stroking him, pulling his foreskin up over the head and back down, little whines escaping Harry’s lips. He reaches for the condoms with his other hand, realises he’s shaking when he tries to hold the packet steady to rip it open.

He does it with his teeth, tossing the packaging aside. “Shall I put it on you?” Louis asks, voice almost a whisper. 

Harry nods his head, leaning back with his arms behind him. His voice goes quiet, a small smile creeping at the corners of his lips. “You’re shaking.”

Louis lets out a tiny laugh, watching the way his fingers shake as he reaches for Harry, condom pinched between them.

Harry holds out on arm, suspending it in the air. Louis watches Harry’s fingers quiver, palm unsteady, outstretched in front of him. “It’s okay, I am too.” Harry whispers, stroking Louis’ damp hair down over his forehead. 

Louis wraps his fingers around Harry’s base, steadying it there. Harry inhales sharply as he does it, not looking away from Louis. He rolls the condom on, watching in awe as it covers Harry up. When it’s on completely, Louis pauses, wiping his sticky hand against his thigh. 

He hitches himself up into Harry’s lap, hovering on his knees. He takes Harry’s face between his hands, cupping his jaw and kissing him, gentle. Harry’s skin is hot under his touch, cheeks blushing red. He tastes of wine and marshmallows and everything Louis’ ever wanted and more. 

Harry moves apart from the kiss, reaching out to grab the lube again. He snaps it open, dripping a little over his cock before pouring some over his fingers, reaching below Louis. Louis lets him, sitting up on his knees and not managing to stop the quiet moan that falls from his lips when Harry smooths over his hole, spreading the lube with his lean fingers. Harry lets his fingers trail there, ghosts of his finger tips sending shockwaves up Louis’ spine.

When he moves his hand away, he puts them on Louis’ hips instead, holding him still. Louis leans back, steadying Harry’s cock with a closed fist and there’s not really anything much left to do than to lower himself onto Harry. He kisses the side of Harry’s mouth, then his jaw, then his chin. Harry grips his waist with one hand, the other smoothing the hair down at the bottom of his neck.

“You’re so beautiful, Lou.” Harry whispers and Louis blushes like he hasn’t just had three of Harry’s fingers up his arse.

He breathes out, quivering and trying to get his composure back. He wriggles back on his knees, holding himself right over Harry’s cock, steadying it in place with his fist wrapped around it.

Harry’s holding him tight, can feel the pressure of his fingertips digging into him, can feel how much he wants this from that alone. With that in mind, Louis begins to lower himself down, choking on a breath when he feels Harry’s tip nudge against his opening. He looks down at Harry, his eyebrows are furrowed together in concentration, lip drawn between his teeth as he tries to keep himself still.

Louis lowers himself, hissing air between his teeth, squeezing his hand against Harry’s thigh as he feels himself take Harry in. 

Harry gasps, bottom lip turning white with how hard he’s biting down on it. “Oh my god.” He chokes out, fingers twitching against Louis’ hips. He takes one hand away, placing it on Louis’ cock instead, jerking him slowly through the pain of the intrusion.

Louis’ skin prickles, hairs standing up on end as he takes more of Harry, determined to sink all the way down. It feels incredible, Harry stretching him open, big hand dragging up and down his cock. He’s overwhelmed, body tingling all over. He sits himself further down, letting out a gentle moan as Harry fills him up more. 

“You’re takin’ it so well.” Harry breathes, sliding his thumb over the head of Louis’ cock. “You feel, _ah_ , so fuckin’ good.”

Louis can barely get words out, brain overridden with pleasure. He’s almost fully seated now, takes his hand away from where it’s steadying Harry’s cock in place, plants it on Harry’s chest instead, giving himself better leverage. Louis sucks in a deep breath, letting his eyes fall shut before he sits himself the rest of the way down, Harry completely inside him now.

Harry’s head shoots up, his eyes wide and mouth agape. “Fuck, _Louis._ ” He whines, his voice breaking. He squeezes Louis’ base, jerking him off slowly. He presses his lips together, eyes dragging up Louis’ body, in awe. 

“I didn’t know,” Louis pants, chest heaving with laboured breaths, “ _Ah_ , I didn’t know I could feel this, this fucking _good._ ” Nothing, nothing he could have ever imagined would even come close to how he feels right now. Harry inside him, connected in the most intimate way possible. He’s so fucking full, Harry splitting him open like this. He stays still for a few more moments, just giving himself time to adjust, letting his body familiarise itself with how Harry feels inside him. 

Harry’s desperate to move, to rock his hips up into Louis, bounce him in his lap. Louis can tell by the way he’s gripping at Louis’ sides, how deep the breaths he takes are. With this in mind, Louis moves his hips, little motions back and forth like he’s grinding on Harry’s cock. Harry breathes Louis’ name out, his stomach muscles jumping when Louis repeats the motion, revelling it the effect it has on Harry.

The burn is starting to fade away and in it’s place comes absolute pleasure, all over body bliss. He doesn’t think he’s ever been so hard in his life, the pain taking nothing away from his erection. He starts to move properly now, fanning his palms over Harry’s chest, sliding himself slowly up Harry’s length before lowering himself back down. Harry squirms underneath him, hands running all over Louis’ body, scratching at his sides and over the bottom of his back. He starts to stutter his hips upwards, the smallest thrusts, testing the waters. Louis chokes out a moan, meeting Harry halfway and seeing stars.

“That feel good?” Harry whispers, and it’s not even like dirty talk. It’s like he’s asking because he genuinely wants to know. Wants to take care of Louis. Wants him to feel good.

“Fucking incredible.” Louis pants back, quickening his pace just slightly, starting to get some kind of rhythm going. “Shit, _Harry._ So fucking good.” 

He throws his head back, moving faster now, more determined. He lets out little puffs on air with every downwards motion, swaying his hips slightly, trying to get that angle he feels like he’s dreaming about. He gets slightly too eager, rising up too far, Harry’s cock slipping out of him and leaving both of them fumbling and gasping for a breath. 

“C’mere,” Harry practically growls, before sitting up straight, enveloping Louis in his lap. “I’ve got you.” He supports Louis weight with one arm, positioning his cock back at Louis’ entrance with the other. “ _Yeah._ ”

Louis bites his lip, little moans escaping as he sinks back down, _fuck_ it feels even better than the first time. The friction is incredible, Harry just filling him so completely. It’s like the brief moments he spent without Harry inside him were enough to make him miss it already. 

He feels Harry’s arms wrap around his waist, pulling him close and plastering their bodies together and it’s _so fucking hot_. His cock drags over Harry’s abs, leaving a sticky wet trail of pre come against his golden skin.

Harry’s fucking him good now, bucking his hips up into Louis, steady and rhythmic and out of nowhere Louis feels it. Harry slams straight into his prostate and Louis whimpers out a high pitched moan, fingers digging into the broad expanse of Harry’s back. “ _Right there,_ ” He shudders, “Fuck, _Harry._ Right there.”

Louis has to jam his eyes shut, the rest of his body starting to shake as Harry keeps thrusting up into that spot, over and over, getting it right on each time. He feels Harry’s long fingers at the back of his neck, tugging him down into an open mouthed kiss. It’s messy and uncoordinated and their teeth keep knocking against each other, Louis whispering Harry’s name over and over into his mouth. 

Louis cups Harry’s face, holding it tight between his palms, kissing him as purposefully as he can when he feels like his brain is seconds away from imploding. He keeps bouncing in Harry’s lap, moaning into his mouth every other thrust, the sensation too overwhelming to keep hidden inside himself. Harry rocks his hips up in a particularly rough thrust and Louis can’t help but throw his head back, whimpering shamelessly at the sensation. 

“You’re gorgeous.” Harry whispers, attaching his lips to Louis’ exposed column of neck. “You’re fucking, _god_ \- _unreal._ ”

Louis keens, rolling his hips forward faster, knocking his cock against Harry’s stomach. He shudders, quickening his pace and they’re going at it so fast now. Harry thrusting up, one hand behind him on the mattress for leverage, whilst Louis slams down, trying to match the rhythm of his hips. 

Harry slinks his hand down from Louis’ waist, flattening it over his ass instead, eliciting a soft moan from Louis. He digs his fingers in, squeezing it tightly like he can’t get enough. Louis feels the heat in his stomach soar when Harry slides his hand down further, fingers rubbing over the place where he’s splitting Louis in two. He presses his pointer finger right against the skin of Louis’ stretched rim, rubbing it purposefully. Louis huffs out a heavy breath, “ _Fuck,_ ” He whines, meeting Harry’s eye. “That good? _Ah_ , feeling yourself inside me?”

Harry responds with a hard thrust, his eyes rolling back and his breathing faltering. “ _God_ , yeah,” He quivers, he takes his other hand, snaking it between their bodies, wrapping it around Louis’ cock once more.

Louis grips Harry’s shoulders, hands trembling as he tries to hold himself up. The muscles in his legs are starting to ache from bouncing himself up and he feels weak, like putty in Harry’s hands. He’s determined though, desperate to keep moving, show Harry he can do it. Make Harry proud. 

He’s starting to feel close now, Harry nailing his prostate almost every other thrust, his fist shooting up and down Louis’ cock in time to the rhythm of his hips slamming into him. He doesn’t want it to end, wants to hold on to this feeling forever. 

He could do this over and over, have Harry all over him, touching him everywhere, absorbed by him. It’s everything Louis has ever wanted. Yeah, it’s the mind-blowing sex, the shivers that shoot up his spine and the way Harry makes him feel like he’s on fire. The way Harry’s so soft with him, so caring and tender, stroking his hair and dancing over his skin with his finger tips. Then the flick of a switch, hard and fast, relentless, just _giving_ it to him.

But it’s more than that, it’s the boy he’s watched blossom into this beautiful being who’s falling apart beneath him now. The boy who’s been his best friend, a stranger in the shadows, a guilty thought in the middle of the night. The boy the rest of the world tried to tear him apart from, the boy he wasn’t even allowed to look at without second guessing himself. And here they are now, connected in the most intimate way possible and it’s fucking _perfect._ How can _this_ be wrong? Louis thinks. How can this be wrong when it’s fireworks and shooting stars and it’s love, _fuck_ , it’s _love._

He moves his hands to Harry’s jaw, holding his face still, meeting his eye. Harry doesn’t blink, he looks at him with a light brighter than Louis’ ever seen before shining right back at him. Harry rocks into him again, and Louis takes it, electricity shooting down his spine. He presses his forehead against Harry’s, holding him steady as he rolls his hips down to meet Harry’s thrust. He can feel hot tears tickle at the corners of his eyes and he blinks them away, rubbing circles into Harry’s cheekbones with his thumbs.

“ _Harry,_ ” He whines, using all the energy he can muster to bear down onto Harry’s cock, letting out a silent sob when it slams into his prostate once again.

He tilts his head forward, connecting their lips, Harry moaning straight into the kiss. Louis’ hands run through Harry’s hair, not pulling, just _feeling_ as he kisses him. Their lips slide past each other, almost lazily like they have all the time in the world and Louis supposes they do.

He’s so, _so_ overwhelmed. Harry squeezes him tight, pulling Louis in impossibly closer to him, not an inch of empty space between them and that’s what does it. The way they fit together seamlessly. They line up exactly, two puzzle pieces. They’re perfect. This is them, together and it’s incredible. It’s not shameful, it’s not wrong, it’s _fucking perfect_. Louis breaks the kiss, pressing his forehead against Harry’s again, he sucks in a deep breath, fingers cramping at how hard they’re gripping onto Harry.

“I love you,” Louis breathes out, voice almost a whisper, “God, _fuck_ , I love you.”

He feels Harry’s hands come to grab at the back of his neck, pulling him down and connecting their lips. This time Harry kisses him hard, open mouthed and full of want. He licks into his mouth, tasting him all over and Louis feels like he’s about the pass out with the way Harry’s thrusts are matching the pace of his kiss.

He keeps his mouth against Louis’ and for a few moments Louis thinks he’s still trying to kiss him, little movements of his mouth. That’s before he realises Harry’s whispering against his lips, a chant of “I love you’s” pressed into the plush pink of Louis’ mouth.

He’s so close now, cock rubbing between their bodies, Harry hitting his prostate practically every thrust. He’s shaking, fingers quivering when he moves to stroke over Harry’s arms that are holding him in place. Without meaning to, Louis finds himself digging his thumb into Harry’s ship tattoo, anchoring himself there.

“Harry, I’m close.” Louis whispers, breathing into Harry’s ear. They haven’t even been going at it for that long, but it’s just _so much_. Louis is so hard and so overwhelmed and he doesn’t want it to end but he feels like he’s a live wire ready to explode any minute now.

Harry responds by letting out a shaky breath, “Let me.” He murmurs before gripping Louis’ waist, twisting them around and laying Louis back against the mattress, keeping them connected so that he’s on top. Harry grabs at Louis’ calves, pulling them up. “Over my shoulders.” Harry tells him, planting his hands either side of Louis’ head. Louis complies, using all the energy he can find to hook his legs up over Harry’s shoulders. Harry leans in to kiss his lips, just once, lower body still. “Yeah?”

Louis shudders, brushing Harry’s hair back out of his face. “Fuck me.”

Harry smashes their mouths together, slamming into Louis and it’s something completely different from this angle. It’s so fucking _deep_ , Harry making him feel so full that his entire body tingles with it, thighs shaking and heart racing. Harry’s thrusts push him up the mattress in little fractions, each more powerful than the last. He’s almost gasping for air now, breath coming out choked and raspy, whimpers and shaky moans leaving his lips with each second that passes. 

Harry buries his face in Louis’ neck, sucking and kissing and licking as he folds Louis up beneath him, pressing him into the mattress. He’s starting to lose his rhythm slightly, his breathing erratic and he’s being almost as loud as Louis is, babbling nonsensically and moaning low in his throat. He switches from fast and hard, moving to slow and so deep. Fucks into Louis like his life depends on it, rutting his hips down and hitting Louis’ prostate right on, over and over, relentless. 

“ _Fuck_ , keep going.” Louis whines, thumbs pressing bruises into Harry’s biceps. “ _Please_ , Harry.” He’s so fucking close now, each rock of Harry’s hips almost sending him over the edge. His hairs stand on end, goosebumps all over body and each last muscle flexing and spasming. 

Harry hitches his legs up further, literally folding Louis in half, deepening the angle even more and pounding into him harder, deeper, faster. They’re both panting, hot sweat slick skin sticking to each other. The smell of sex and sweat and the outdoors and each other combined in an intoxicating mix that overrides Louis’ senses. Harry’s kissing him and he almost doesn’t register it, too far gone to do anything but moan into his mouth. 

Harry takes a hold of Louis’ cock and Louis almost screams, legs kicking out and fingers clenching around Harry as he strokes him, thumb sliding over his slit.

Every move Harry makes is punctuated by a short, sharp “ah” that comes high in Louis’ throat. He digs his ankles into Harry’s back like he’s trying to get him impossibly deeper inside.

“ _Harry_ , please, _fuck,_ ” Louis whines, not even sure what he’s asking for, no other words capable of forming in his mind. 

“Yeah, _Lou._ ” Harry whimpers back, ramming into Louis, his fist working over his cock so fast it’s a blur. Louis can feel it building inside him, that white hot heat thats bubbling up in his stomach, rising up his spine and clouding his mind. He’s shaking, legs and arms quivering. His eyes are watering and he can feel himself tensing up all over, tension in his muscles about to snap like a rubber band. 

“Shit, Harry, oh my _god._ ” Louis cries out just as it happens. The band snaps, shockwaves ricocheting through his entire body. It hits him in waves, each more powerful than the last, every last inch of his form shaking and burning up. He feels himself release, ropes of come hitting his chest, Harry’s chest, Harry’s hand. It doesn’t stop there either, his mind goes blank and his vision blacks out, just completely overcome with pleasure. It feels like it goes on forever, each second more intense than the previous. Harry just keeps fucking him through it, milking Louis’ orgasm for all it’s worth. He clings onto Harry, fingers clutching all over his arms, his back, anywhere Louis can reach. 

Before Louis knows whats happening, he feels Harry come apart above him, thrusts erratic and the most beautiful noises Louis has ever heard fall from his lips. Louis cups Harry’s jaw, holding it with shaking fingers, bringing their lips together and kissing Harry with all he has left in him. Harry can’t kiss back, just moans and pants into Louis’ mouth as he comes, body shivering all over.

Louis smooths his hair out of his face, kissing him all over like he’s trying to soothe him. Harry’s body slows, moans reduced to whispered breaths and quiet murmurs of Louis’ name. They stay there, just holding each other close, panting into each others mouths, foreheads plastered together. Louis' legs ache from being wrapped around Harry's back but he doesn't want to let go, could stay in this moment forever. With a heavy breath, he unhooks his legs from around Harry’s back, letting them fall to either side of Harry, one last choked moan leaving his lips as he feels Harry slip out of him. 

Harry lets himself flop onto Louis, just collapses on his chest, almost winding him. “Bloody hell,” Louis lets out, adjusting his weight, body feeling like nothing but a shaky shell, so exhausted and worn out. Harry's like a dead weight, his chest heaving and muscles twitching and he rolls onto his side, pupils blown and skin sweating.

Louis kisses his face, the salty skin of his neck and the dampness of his hair. He's glowing. “Lets get this off you.” Louis breathes out shakily, reaching down and taking the condom off. He ties it carefully and scrambles over to the tent zipper, chucking it outside, hoping no innocent woodland creatures cross paths with it.

“ _Fuck,_ ” He exhales, turning back to Harry who’s laid on his back on the mattress, chest still heaving. Louis launches himself at Harry, wrapping his arms around him and holding him close. Harry’s out of it, dazed expression and blown pupils dancing over Louis’ face.

Louis smiles back at him softly, stroking his face with the back of his hand. “Are you alright?” He chuckles, kissing Harry’s forehead.

Harry nods, reaching out to hold Louis’ hand, connecting their fingers. “That was-” He breathes out, squeezing Louis’ fingers, “The best sex of my life.”

Louis chuckles, leaning in to kiss his lips softly. “Yeah, might have to agree with you there.” He mumbles against Harry’s lips.

Harry grins at him, trailing his fingers up and down Louis’ spine, hand shaking as he strokes delicately. His voice is low as he speaks, sounds like he's swallowed sandpaper, “Seriously, Lou. I’ve never felt like that, _ever_. I can’t explain it, it’s just so fucking _good_ with you.”

Louis swallows, biting his lip as he looks at Harry. He looks so vulnerable, so honest and open. His lips are swollen and his cheeks are flushed pink, hair sticking to his forehead and his eyes wider than Louis’ has ever seen them before. “I love you so much.” Louis blurts out, feeling tears prickle in the corner of his eyes. “I’m so in love with you Harry.” 

He sees Harry suck in a deep breath, all his features soft and searching as he swallows hard. “Louis, fuck.” He stammers, blinking fast. “I love _you._ I love you _so much._ I can’t- I can’t tell you how much. How badly.”

“I know,” Louis whispers, stroking his hair back and placing a kiss on his cheekbone. “ _God_ , I know.” 

Harry turns into him, wrapping his arms around Louis’ sides and holding him close, burying his face in Louis’ neck. Louis giggles softly, running his fingers through Harry’s damp hair. “That tickles.”

“Sorry,” Harry whispers against his skin, “I’m crying and it’s embarrassing.”

Louis chokes out a laugh, cupping Harry’s chin and pulling his face up. “ _Harry_ ,” He coos, swiping at his damp eyes with his thumb, catching a tear. “Not embarrassing.”

“Crying after sex is a _bit_ embarrassing.” Harry deadpans, sniffling and curling closer into Louis.

“Alright, maybe a _bit._ ” Louis laughs back, hugging him close and kissing over his hair. “But this is a special circumstance.” 

Harry lets out a laugh, stroking Louis’ back. “Well we did just have sex in the middle of the woods.”

Louis giggles, “Bit kinky that, innit?”

Harry snorts. “You’ve seen nothing yet.”

*

They lie together lazily for a while, Harry wants to stay naked but the tent doesn’t provide much heat so it’s with disdain that they put clothes back on. They talk about everything and nothing, dragging their fingers over each others skin, touching softly. Louis tells Harry about all the new music he’s been listening to lately, pulling up a few songs and playing them through his phone for Harry. He listens carefully to each one, taking them in and telling Louis his favourite parts when they’re finished. 

Sometimes they’re silent, soaking each other in. Harry dips in and out of a gentle doze a few times, Louis listening to the way his breaths shallow and deepen, how his features contort like he’s dreaming. 

It’s when Harry slips back into consciousness that Louis remembers his earlier plans. “Shall we sit outside for a bit?” He whispers to Harry, “Get a bit of fresh air?”

Harry nods at him, “Only if you cuddle me.”

“Deal.” Louis beams, unzipping the tent and crawling out. Harry joins him, sitting cross legged next to him. “Stay here a sec, gonna grab some stuff.”

“Kay.” Harry grins back at him, voice all floaty and light.

Louis grabs his bag from inside the tent, retrieving the set of tea lights and his lighter. When he stumbles back out, Harry’s smirking at him. “Candles?”

“Yep.” Louis retorts, “Sorting out those romantic vibes you were on about.”

“I feel like multiple open flames in the middle of a forest isn’t the safest thing in the world.” Harry offers, shaking his head softly as Louis sets them up around them.

“You’re probably right there, but I’m committed to this romance thing now.”

Harry scoffs, “Starting a forest fire is definitely up there on the list of uh, top ten romantic date ideas.” 

Louis shoots him a playful glare, “There will be no forest fires. I’m a responsible adult and the situation is under control.”

Harry rolls his eyes, laughing at Louis’ words as he starts to light the tea lights one by one, using the torch on his phone to see in the dark that’s settled in now. Harry watches him quietly, hugging his knees against his chest.

He lights the last one, small flame wavering slightly in the gentle breeze of the night. He stands up to admire his work and yeah, it’s probably not the smartest idea ever, but it looks fantastic. Little bright lights on the ground that look like stars against the dark forest floor below, mirrored by the actual stars above them, twinkling in the night sky. But neither come close to the stars in Harry’s eyes, shining bright at Louis when he looks down at him.

“It looks really pretty, actually.” Harry says, reaching his hand out for Louis to grab as he pulls him down. 

“Just like you.” Louis quips back, slotting himself down next to Harry.

Harry ducks his head, dimpling. “Jeez, stop flirting with me.” He winks, leaning his head against Louis’ shoulder.

“Does having your cock in my arse count as flirting then?”

“Lou _is_ ,” Harry whines, playfully slapping his thigh.

“What date are we on now then? Is this like, what, our third?” Louis asks, counting on Harry’s fingers.

“I think.” Harry contemplates, “We’re not very conventional.” 

Louis laughs, he feels his stomach flutter as he prepares himself for his next move. “Just, out of curiosity,” He begins, biting his lip. “What date do people usually make it, erm…official? Generally speaking?”

Harry raises his eyebrows, pursing his lips to stop from smiling. “I think it’s different for everyone, really. And like I said, we’re not very conventional.”

Louis smirks at him, “Who said anything about us? I’m just asking for a friend.”

Harry pinches his thigh, “Right, well my advice for your _friend_ would be that if it feels right, it probably is right. No matter how many dates they’ve been on.”

Louis nods, storing away the information. “Sorted. I’ll make sure to tell him that, then.” Harry rolls his eyes, pouting at Louis. 

“ _What?_ ” Louis exasperates, trying his best not to laugh at Harry’s impatient expression. He can’t help but lean in and kiss the pout off Harry’s lips, moving away only when he feels Harry smile back into the kiss.

He rests his hand against Harry’s jaw, stroking softly with his thumb. He whispers softly, “Could I ask you a question?”

Harry just nods back, reflection of the burning candles sparkling in his eyes. Louis takes a deep breath, the look in Harry’s eye calming his nerves. “Can I call you my boyfriend?”

Harry beams back at him, dimples deep as craters. He nods once slowly and then repeats the motion a million times. “Yes.” He grins, “Yes, definitely.” He places their mouths together again, kissing Louis all soft and chaste with no tongue. When he breaks apart he’s still grinning and Louis is too, jaw almost aching from it. 

“Boyfriend.” Harry states, arms slung around Louis’ neck. 

“Boyfriend.” Louis repeats, leaning in and kissing him again. Their teeth clatter together and it’s all very uncoordinated, smiling too much to care. 

He hears Harry mumble again his lips, it’s hard to make out at first, but then he gets it. “I love you.”

Louis leans back, breaking the kiss and linking their hands again. “I love you and you’re my boyfriend.”

Harry laughs, wrapping Louis up in his arms. “I’d have to agree with you there.”

Louis lets himself go slack in Harry’s hold, their sides pressed together and Harry scooping him up close. All he can see around him is twinkling light. The stars and the candles and the reflection of them in the lake. It’s like a vacuum, a safe place that only houses him and Harry and the hints of another atmosphere peeking back at them.

“This is our thing, isn’t it?” Louis asks, voice breaking the silence of the night.

“What’d’ya mean?” Harry replies, fingers tracing Louis’ skin.

“Space, the stars. When we almost kissed at mine, you were showing me The Plough. Then we saw it again when we _did_ kiss. And I can see it right now.”

Harry lets out a quiet laugh, nodding slow. “I was wondering if you’d spot it.”

Louis tilts his head up to peck Harry’s chin. “I swear it’s extra bright tonight.”

Harry hums, his eyes glued to the constellation. “Yeah, I know what you mean.”

“Space is mad, isn’t it?” Louis responds, shaking his head up at the cosmos. “It looks so calm up there, like dead quiet.”

Harry nods at him, “Do you ever think about how many different universes there could be? Like, there could be a million different versions of you out there.”

“I know,” Louis replies, “I think I like this version of me best though.”

“Yeah?” Harry questions, squeezing his sides. “Why’s that?”

“Cos this version of me’s got you.” Louis tells him simply, resting his head against Harry’s shoulder.

Harry kisses the top of his head, smoothing his hair down. “I would have found you in any universe though.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> disclaimer: i do not endorse the burning of open flames in heavily wooded areas or the littering of used condoms.  
> holy shit! i can't believe this fic is almost finished. it turned into something so much bigger than what it was intended to be and i'm so happy that people are still reading it. i'm about halfway through the last chapter so that should be up relatively soon. i just wanna say thanks to everyone that's showed support for this in any way whether it be kudos/comments or literally even just viewing the page, it genuinely does mean loads, so thanks! come say hey on tumblr, i'm problematiclarry :)  
> p.s the lyrics "it's just you and i tonight, why don't you figure my heart out?" are from the song 'heart out' by the 1975 x


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this a formal apology for not updating in 37 years and then dropping a 16k chapter. i'm human garbage.

Louis wakes up and almost forgets where he is, the morning sun shining through the material of the tent and tinting everything a strange translucent green, alien atmosphere. The air mattress squeaks underneath him as he stretches, his weight tipping it slightly so that Harry’s form presses against his side. 

He tilts his body, lying on side, before he snakes his arms around Harry, wrapping him in close. Everything is hazy, his mind still stuck in that just woken up grogginess, yet Harry’s skin against his own still shoots electricity down his spine. 

He feels Harry’s muscles twitch under his touch, little movements of limbs that are just beginning to wake up. The back of his neck tastes like salt and sleep as he brushes his hair aside to plant his mouth there instead, kissing his skin for no reason in particular. His arms loop over Harry’s waist and Louis fans his palm out flat against his stomach, feeling the way it rises and falls with each shallow breath Harry takes. Louis can’t help but kiss him some more, down the back of his neck and over his shoulder blades. Just small brushes of his lips against Harry’s skin, delicate and like little sprinklings of sugar.

Harry lets out a heavy breath under him, his hips twitching and eyelids fluttering open. He sighs in content as Louis presses a firmer kiss against the top ridge in his spine.

“Morning,” Louis utters against the round of Harry’s shoulder.

“G’mornin’,” Harry gravels back, voice husky and heavy with the weight of a nights sleep behind it. 

Louis pulls him in closer, hugging him in tight. “Did I wake you?”

Harry shakes his head in small motions, hair tickling at Louis’ mouth. “I was already awake.”

Louis scoffs, biting gently at his shoulder. “I could hear you snoring.”

“Liar.” Harry grumbles, turning on his side to face Louis. He reaches out with his thumb and swipes over Louis’ cheekbone before touching their lips together just once. “I _was_ awake. You talk in your sleep.”

Louis feels himself blush, his embarrassing sleep habits include, but aren’t limited to, sleep talking. “I was probably just moaning about how much you hog the bed.” He quips, jabbing Harry lightly in the ribs.

Harry raises his eyebrows. “Oh, you were _definitely_ moaning. Sounded quite content to me though.”

Louis drops his mouth open, pinching Harry’s sides and making him squirm. “Shut _up_! You’re awful.” He tickles Harry’s ribs with all the energy he can muster having just woken up.

Harry grips at his wrists, laughing breathlessly. Harry lightens his voice, high pitched tone like he’s mocking Louis. “Ah, Harry, _harder._ ”

Louis flattens his palm over Harry’s mouth, muffling the obscene noises he’s making. “I do _not_ sound like that!”

Louis feels Harry’s tongue slip out of his mouth to lick at his palm and he yanks it away in mock disgust. Harry gives him a devilish grin in return, eyes still puffy from sleep. “We could go for round two and you could show me what you _do_ sound like.”

“You’ve already forgotten last night then, have you?” Louis teases, flicking Harry’s nose. “I’m insulted.”

Harry bites at his finger, wriggling his body closer to Louis’. “I don’t think I’ll ever forget last night.”

Louis swallows, playful atmosphere dispersing for a moment. Louis doesn't think he’ll ever forget it either. The sex and the ‘I love you’s’ and the whispered promises of a proper relationship. He licks his lips, focusing his attention on the soft lines of Harry’s face. His boyfriends face. 

Harry gazes at him, eyes unfocused and pupils blown in the darkness of the tent. Louis reaches around the back of his neck, curling his fingers in his hair and bringing their lips together. It’s a lazy kiss, the perfect morning embrace. Soft and slow, lips dragging past each other and breath shallow in their throats. Harry’s lips are warm against Louis’, plump and wet and there’s that sourness of the morning there but it’s counteracted by the absolute sweetness of the situation at hand.

They break apart and Harry moves his fingers to play with the longer hair at the back of Louis’ neck, sending shivers down his spine as his fingers brush against the sensitive skin there. “Do we have time?” Louis whispers, feeling Harry’s breath against his face.

“Always got time for you.” Harry murmurs back, dragging his palm around Louis neck and over his collarbones.

Louis preens at the sentiment, body reacting to every small touch Harry leaves against his skin. He lets himself forget about everything they’re supposed to be doing today when Harry leans forward and buries his face in Louis’ neck, leaving a series of wet, open mouthed kisses there. Louis tangles his fingers in Harry’s hair like an automatic reaction, letting his head fall back to expose more skin for Harry’s mouth to mark.

He feels Harry adjust his weight, tipping them so Louis’ is flat on his back now. Harry ducks his head up to meet Louis’ eye. “We’ve got time, s’early still. Trust me.”

Louis just nods at him, shivering when the cool metal of Harry’s pendant drags up his chest as he leans over him. He’s never felt that way before, so in tune with somebody that every small touch rocks him like an earthquake. 

“I love you.” Louis whispers, cupping Harry’s face with one hand, bringing him in close. It’s still so new, so surreal to Louis that he can say that and have Harry know exactly what he means. That he can say I love you and follow it up with the pressing of Harry’s lips against his own. 

“I love _you._ ” Harry replies, pecking at the tip of Louis’ nose, the centre of his forehead, the bottom of his chin. Louis laughs softly as Harry connects their mouths again, kiss just as lazy as it was before. It’s tranquil, like soaking in a warm bath. How Harry kisses him with such tenderness it makes his bones feel like jelly. 

Harry’s on top of him now, bare chest plastered against Louis’. His hair falls against Louis’ face, refusing to stay in place no matter how many times Louis tucks it back behind Harry’s ears. He’s letting out little shallow huffs through his nose, tiny whimpers from the cracks between his own lips and Louis’. 

They both slept shirtless in joggers and the waistband of Harry’s presses against Louis’ stomach. He trails his fingers down Harry’s back, feeling along the curve of his spine and smirking to himself when Harry’s breath catches in his throat. The pads of his fingers slip under Harry’s waistband and he snakes them further down when Harry moves his hips up into Louis’ touch. Louis breaks the kiss to mumble against Harry’s mouth “Shall I take these off you?”

Harry nods, eyelids fluttering closed as Louis palms at his ass, squeezing his cheeks. He stays there for a while, not meaning to tease but getting caught up in the feeling. His fingers edge closer and closer and Harry lets out a quiet whine when Louis’ spreads his cheeks. 

“Do you want-“ Louis breathes out, hooking his fingers in Harry’s waistband, “Want me to fuck you?”

Harry bites his lip, rolling his hips down against Louis’. “S’only fair, innit?”

Louis lets out a laugh, gripping at Harry’s hips under his joggers. “Mm, I suppose so.” He slides them back up to Harry’s ass, cupping his cheeks and kneading with his fingers. “Bet you’d feel so good.” 

“ _Lou,_ ” Harry huffs out, dropping his forehead against Louis’. “I know I said we have time, but it’s limited and you’re turning me on so much.”

Louis quirks an eyebrow up, squeezing Harry and pulling him down so their hips press together. “Look at you, gettin’ all needy.”

Harry bites at his collarbone, flicking his tongue over it. “It’s your _morning voice_. You sound all rough and rugged when you talk.” He sighs, kissing a neat line across Louis’ chest. “And you look so good when you wake up. You’re cute and sleepy but really, _really_ hot all at once.”

Louis responds by flipping them over, straddling Harry’s waist. “You do talk some shit.” He laughs, walking his fingers up Harry’s torso. 

“It’s all true.” Harry replies, holding Louis’ hips, his thumbs rubbing circles into the soft flesh there. He sits himself up slowly, mouth hanging open as he takes in Louis’ form. He thumbs over Louis’ nipples then drags his fingers down Louis’ sides. “You’re just…so, _delicious._ ”

Louis grins, cupping Harry’s face and tilting his chin up. It makes him feel like he’s floating, Harry being so enamoured by him, but he brushes it off. “ _Delicious_? What am I, some kind of pastry?” 

Harry just nods at him, lips quirked up into a smirk. “A cream pie.”

Louis barks out a laugh, his head lolling backwards. “Do you have an innuendo for every situation?”

“Most, yeah.” Harry shrugs nonchalantly, giggling into Louis’ mouth before attaching their lips again. Louis kisses him harder this time, Harry reciprocating by wrapping his arms around Louis’ back and pulling him in tight. Louis nibbles at Harry’s bottom lip, pulling it between his teeth and sucking at it gently.

He leans forward, putting all his weight on Harry and tipping him back onto the mattress. Breaking the kiss, he mouths down Harry’s neck, biting at his jawline and eliciting a content sigh from him. He keeps going, trailing his mouth and tongue further down Harry’s chest. He kisses over the swallows, pecks at their beaks and traces his tongue around the outline of the tails. 

Without a word of warning, Louis licks over Harry’s nipple, just once with a pointed tongue. Harry arches right off the mattress, a high pitched squeak leaving his mouth. Louis smirks at him before diving back down, repeating the motion but this time with more intensity. He covers Harry’s nipple with his mouth, sucking and flicking his tongue and Harry practically writhes under him, squirming under his touch. 

“You really like that.” It’s not a question as much as it is an observation, but Harry nods frantically at it anyway. 

“Just…really sensitive.” He gasps, choking on a breath when Louis pinches the other between his thumb and forefinger. “ _God._ ”

It’s so fun with Harry, sex is so fun. It’s hot and passionate and steamy but it’s also _fun._ Finding out what Harry likes, where he likes to be touched the most, how he likes it when Louis says his name. It’s like each new discovery only spurs Louis on to find out more, more ways to drive Harry mad, to give him what he wants.

“Do you like having someone between your legs, like you were between mine?” He asks coyly, sliding down Harry’s stomach and nosing over his waistband.

“Beard burn.” Harry murmurs, chest rising and falling heavily now.

Louis furrows his eyebrows, looking up at Harry. “Wha’s tha’?”

Harry sits himself up slightly, leaning forward to stroke at Louis’ face. He drags his pointer finger along Louis’ jaw, smoothing over the stubble there. “Wanna feel it between my thighs.”

Louis nearly chokes, sticky hot heat rising in his stomach at Harry’s words. It’s the way he says them more than anything, voice dropping even lower than it usually is, words coming out rough like gravel but still managing to sound light and airy.

He hooks his fingers under Harry’s waistband and watches in awe as Harry bucks his hips up off the mattress so Louis can shuffle them down. His hipbones jut out against the smoothness of his torso, deep v lines visible under the dark ink of the laurel leaves.

Louis pulls Harry’s joggers right the way off and wastes no time in crawling back up his body, placing his hands on the inside of Harry’s thighs and pushing them apart. Harry’s cock rests against his hipbone, not fully hard yet but thickening up. Louis bypasses it, heading straight for the milky white skin of the inside of his legs. He rests the side of his face against the inner seam of Harry’s thigh, moving it in small motions. 

“Like that?” He asks Harry with a smirk, revelling in the way Harry’s muscles jump and his stomach curls. 

“ _Yeah_ , like that.” Harry mewls above him, one arm thrown over his face. Louis spreads his legs further, hitches one up over his shoulder to give him better access. Harry’s skin is paper thin here, almost every touch Louis places leaves a red mark. The scratch from his stubble, the sharp nipping of his teeth. Harry’s reaction is maddening, he doesn’t even pull away from the pain, just rocks his body up closer to the touch. 

Louis plants the side of his face against Harry’s thigh, dragging it slow across the skin, rubbing side to side. Harry lets out a low whine but chokes it off when Louis reaches up to grab his cock, twisting the base before sliding his fist up the shaft.

“ _Fuck,_ ” Harry squirms underneath him, fingers laced into the sheet and gripping tight. Louis keeps jerking him, sucking at his thighs and leaving tiny bite marks over the reddening his stubble left there. The noises Harry makes go straight to Louis cock and he can’t help but reach down and palm himself through his joggers as he jerks Harry off, just something to keep his mind from completely fogging up. 

He thumbs over Harry’s head, right over the sensitive slit and Harry’s whole body twitches, hips stuttering upwards and his head falling back. “ _Lou-_ “ He whines.

Louis gets the message, drags his mouth up from Harry’s thigh to meet his hand instead. He parts his lips around Harry’s tip, tasting the salty slickness there. Harry lets out a low moan, stomach muscles flexing as Louis sucks it past his lips, swirling his tongue around the head as he strokes with his hand.

Harry’s so responsive, every flick of Louis’ tongue has his squirming, breath hitching and little whimpers and whines spilling from his lips. He sucks Harry further down, focusing on breathing through his nose and keeping his lips tight around Harry’s shaft. He looks up at Harry from underneath his eyelashes, mesmerised by his parted lips and slack jaw. How flushed his cheeks are already and the sheen of sweat across his forehead.

He starts to bob his head, one hand taking what he cant fit in his mouth and the other clasped against Harry’s thigh. He’s starting to build up a good rhythm, already used to the stretch around his lips and how full his mouth feels. 

Harry’s hand reaches down, fingers shaking. He cups Louis’ face as he sucks, Harry’s thumb pressing against Louis’ cheek. It’s only when Harry starts to rock his hips up in small increments that Louis realises he’s feeling himself inside Louis’ mouth. 

Louis quirks an eyebrow up at him, popping his mouth off Harry’s cock before dragging his tongue from base to tip, finishing with a neat circle of eight over that head that makes Harry mewl.

Louis sits up, reaching down under the air mattress for the lube and condoms they’d strewn there last night. Harry watches him, breathing heavily. His eyes are hooded and his teeth sink into his bottom lip. 

Louis finds the items, holding them in his hand and showing them to Harry with a glimmer in his eye. Harry holds his own hand out, flat palm like an offering. “You want me to?” He asks, running his fingers along his stomach.

“What d’you mean?” Louis asks him, voice coming out all hoarse.

Harry’s fingers trail down to the base of his cock, he cups his fist around it before dragging it slowly up the shaft. Louis has to bite back a moan.

“Open myself up for you?”

Louis licks his lips, just about able to tear his gaze away from Harry jerking himself all slow and barely there. Louis thinks about it for a second, watching Harry finger himself, get himself ready for Louis. He shakes his head though, “Wanna touch you.” He wants to feel Harry, every last inch of him. 

Harry nods back at him, free hand making mock grabbing motions at Louis. “Come on then.”

Louis grins, crawling over to Harry and hovering above him. “You’re so bloody hot.” He looks down at Harry, how he’s still lazily fisting over his cock. Louis pats his hand away, smirking down at Harry when he moves it without hesitation, resting it on the small of Louis’ back instead.

He lowers himself down, wedging his body on top of Harry’s and hissing sharply when he feels Harry’s hard cock bump against his stomach. He kisses Harry, wastes no time in licking into his mouth. Long, wet brushes of tongues that should feel filthy but somehow manage to taste sweet. 

Harry digs his feet into the mattress, thighs bracketing Louis’ sides. He touches all over them, reaching under and pushing them up towards Harry’s chest as they kiss, their crotches rubbing against each other. It must feel like so much for Harry, the heavy cotton of Louis’ joggers pressing down on his bare cock. He squirms underneath him as Louis rolls his hips down, own breath faltering as he gets some much needed friction.

“Why are you still wearing clothes?” Harry manages to gasp out between kisses, hands grabbing at Louis’ waistband, pulling down.

Louis bites at Harry’s lip, shimmying his hips and letting Harry tug his bottoms off. “Good question.” 

When Harry gets them all the way off, his hands shoot to grip at Louis’ ass. Louis whines low in his throat as Harry squeezes, using his long fingers to pull Louis in closer, deepen the thrusts. It replicates what Louis knows it about to come and the anticipation is driving him crazy because he wants it _now._

He sits up, reaching for the lube and popping the cap open. “You ready?” He asks Harry, smoothing a hand over Harry’s kneecap. 

“Yeah, please.” Harry replies, reaching his own hand up to interlock with Louis’. Louis nods, tipping the bottle and squeezing the liquid over his fingers, letting it trickle down onto his palm. He shuffles in between Harry’s thighs, kneeling there. Harry brackets him between them, squeezing his sides. He reaches up with his arms, taking a pillow from under his head and bucking his hips up to put it underneath them, giving Louis better access.

The first touch makes the both of them moan, all it is a brush of fingers against skin. Harry’s legs fall further apart, hips rocking forward searching for more. “Fuck,” Louis’ whispers before putting his fingers there again, rubbing the lube over the tight skin, getting Harry nice and wet. Harry hums under him, fingers grasping at the sheets and his breathing become faltered. 

Louis leans forward, covering Harry’s body with his own. He latches his mouth onto Harry’s collarbone, sucking softly just as he pushes his first finger past the tight ring of muscle. Harry bucks upwards, a high whine escaping his lips. Louis freezes for a moment, overcome with the way Harry feels inside. So warm and tight and _fuck_ , is Harry going to feel incredible around his cock. 

Louis starts to move, pushing in and out in the smallest fractions. Harry’s breaths mirror the movement of Louis’ finger, it’s all shallow and quick paced, little whines and mewls between breaths. Louis kisses along his chest, holding Harry’s thigh with his free hand. He can feel the muscles jump and twitch as he starts to push in with his second finger.

“Okay?” Louis asks, looking up at Harry. 

“ _Yeah_ , Louis.” Harry breathes, throwing his head back as Louis’ gets both his fingers inside, thrusting slowly. He keeps moving them in and out, steady and slow, not wanting to hurt Harry. Harry rolls his hips up to meet Louis’ fingers, like he’s trying to get him in deeper.

“Tell me.” Louis utters against the lines of Harry’s butterfly, “Tell me what you need.” 

Harry’s fingers lace in Louis’ hair, he tugs tightly at the loose strands, pushing them back off Louis’ face. “More,” Harry almost whimpers, “Can you, _ah_ , stretch ‘em. Your fingers, like scissors.”

Louis gets it, he peppers a number of kisses over Harry’s stomach before smirking back up at him, meeting his eye and holding his gaze as he scissors his fingers, feeling Harry stretch around them. Harry’s jaw drops, eyebrows threaded together as he lets out a low moan.

“Like that?” Louis smirks, an eyebrow raised. He repeats the motion, this time whilst moving his fingers in and out and Harry practically shouts “Like that,” back at him.

Louis licks across Harry’s chest as he moves his fingers in and out. He tastes like salt and skin and Louis can feel his heart hammering against his ribcage. Just as Louis moves to add another finger, he latches his mouth onto Harry’s nipple. 

“ _Fuck,_ ” Harry moans, his hands in Louis’ hair, pushing him down. Louis points his tongue, flicking it over the bud of Harry’s nipple repeatedly. He sucks it into his mouth, licks over it with a flat tongue and nibbles gently with his teeth. Slowly, he pushes in with his third finger and Harry _keens_ , gripping his hair and pulling him up into a kiss.

Louis quickens the pace of his fingers all while keeping the kiss slow and sensual, languid flicks of his tongue against Harry’s. He moves his mouth to the side to whisper against Harry’s lips, “So tight, can’t wait to get inside you.”

Harry lets out a high moan, his eyes jamming shut and his lips parting as Louis’ gives him a particularly hard thrust. Harry’s skin is sweat slick and it slides against Louis’ as he rolls his body up to press against his. His fingers dance over Louis, gripping at his hair, scratching down his back and resting gently against the lines of his face as they kiss. Louis remembers the way he touched himself, how he curled his fingers inside and the way Harry did the same to him. How incredible it felt, like a million shots of sharp pleasure shooting up his spine. He bites at Harry’s bottom lip, dragging it out slow and with purpose. Just before he lets go, he curls all three fingers inside Harry, rubbing that spongey spot inside him.

Harry’s head shoots back, a high pitched moan falling from his lips as his body twitches under Louis’. “Jesus _Christ_ , Lou.” He lets out on a shaky breath, his chest heaving. “Fuck me.”

Louis shoots him a smirk, latching his mouth onto Harry’s neck and sucking hard before repeating the motion with his fingers, this time harder. Harry whines low and loud, his fingernails digging into Louis’ back, hips rolling upwards. Louis gives him one more curl of his fingers, keeps eye contact with him and can’t help but moan himself at the effect he has on Harry. 

Harry moves his hands to grab at Louis’ jaw, holding his face up to meet his eye. “ _Please_ , fuck me.” 

Louis smirks, raising an eyebrow at Harry. “Well, since you asked so nicely.”

Harry lets out a shaky laugh as Louis kisses over his chest, dragging his fingers out and eliciting a heavy sigh from Harry. He kneels upright, reaching back for the strip of condoms, ripping one off and tearing the seal. 

Harry watches him through hooded eyes, hand slowly working over his cock, teasing strokes. Louis bites his lip as he rolls the condom on, a silent whine escaping anyway. His voice breaks as he whispers out, “How d’you wanna do this?”

Harry shrugs, “However you want me.”

Louis sucks in a shaky breath, leaning forward and hovering over Harry. “Wanna see you,” He smooths Harry’s hair behind his ear, “Wanna see your face.”

Harry bends his legs at the knee, bracketing Louis’ sides with them. He rolls his hips up and their cocks slide past each other, the both of them letting out soft moans. “Like this?” Harry whispers, blinking up at Louis. 

Louis swallows, nodding. He reaches down to steady his base, he brushes the tip against Harry’s entrance and they both inhale sharply at the feeling. Louis leans forward again, kissing the middle of Harry’s forehead softly as he starts to push in. 

Louis thinks he might pass out. _Fuck_ , does it feel incredible. It’s like nothing Louis could have ever imagined, the feeling of Harry around him. He feels tight as a vice around Louis’ cock, warm and wet with lube and it takes every ounce of self control Louis has to not fuck straight into him. 

Harry’s breathing quickens, soft whines and pants falling from his lips. His fingers dig into Louis’ back whilst his other hand works slowly over his cock to take the edge off the sharpness. He’s all flushed and red and his lips are swollen, his hair is falling everywhere and the expression on his face only highlights the beauty Louis’ sees in Harry every day.

“ _Fuck_ , you’re _so_ fucking gorgeous, Harry.” Louis manages to grunt out, pressing their foreheads together as he inches further inside. “So fucking pretty.”

Harry just whines in response, taking his hand away from Louis’ back and searching for his hand instead. Louis sees him, interlocks their fingers above Harry’s head so he can support his weight. Harry squeezes at Louis’ fingers as Louis bottoms out, burying himself completely inside Harry. 

He stays there, like he’s suspended in time. He feels dizzy almost, like he needs Harry’s hand wrapped around his own to keep him centred. It’s quiet, the only noise being the heavy breathing shared between the two of them and the hammering of Louis’ heart against his ribcage. Every millimetre of his skin feels like a live wire, like any touch could set him off. He’s completely mesmerised by the feeling of nothing but Harry all over him. Surrounding him, swallowing him up whole. 

“ _Louis,_ ” Harry breathes out, shattering the silence as he rolls his hips down just an fraction. 

The sensation makes Louis’ whole body tingle. The friction feels incredible even though he starts off slow and gentle, not wanting to hurt Harry. It builds fast though, every whine or low moan that Harry makes spurring him on. He keeps their hands connected above Harry’s head, the way Harry’s thumb rubs slowly against the back of Louis’ palm making even the roughest thrusts somehow feel delicate and sweet. 

They kiss through it, as much as they can. It becomes a wet mess of mouths and tongues and a clattering of teeth, too breathless and far gone to do much but moan into each others mouths. Harry keeps a hand around his cock, stroking himself in time with Louis’ thrusts until Louis bats it away and replaces it with his own hand instead. 

He latches on to Harry’s neck, sucking a reddening bruise into the dip in his collarbone. He bites at it gently with his sharp teeth and Harry twists his neck, giving Louis more exposed skin to work with. It’s getting hard to concentrate, Harry so tight around him. The noises he’s making and heavy thickness of his wet cock in Louis’ palm. He does his best, kissing up and down Harry’s neck in between moans and choked breaths. 

Louis feels Harry adjust his position, picking his legs up and wrapping them around Louis’ back, hooking his ankles together. It makes Louis whine, the new angle giving him a chance to get deeper, and fuck, does he take it. He takes a hand away from Harry’s cock, brining it up over Harry's head to meet his other. He’s looming down over him now, bending Harry in half. His fingers grip Harry’s as he thrusts. Long, slow ones that make Harry let out these deep moans, shameless and so loud. Quick and hard ones that elicit nothing from Harry’s lips but breathless “ _ah’s_ ” that keep perfect time to the rhythm of Louis’ hips. 

It’s the friction and the relentless pressure of Harry against Louis’ cock that tips him over the edge first. The way that there seems to be no escaping the feeling of Harry, how incessant the pleasure is, each thrust shooting fireworks up his spine. How desperate Harry is to kiss him through it, how warm and wet his mouth is and the way his ankles hook around his back, drawing Louis closer and closer in to him. 

When Louis comes it’s with a choked sob and a million shaking muscles that at all seem to spasm at once. He loses his mind for a moment, everything goes black and he can feel so much and nothing all at once. Harry’s all over him, holding him close and moaning with him through it, the sounds that leaves their mouths mixing together like a two piece harmony. 

He stays inside Harry, just allowing himself a few moments to come down and get his self control back. Harry lets him, his breathing erratic now as he pushes Louis’ hair out of his face, smoothing the sweat slick strands back against his forehead. 

Harry whines, a breathless whimper as Louis finds it in him to pull out. His fingers shake as he pulls of the condom, tying it and throwing it to the back of the tent, not even bothering to get it outside. He has more important issues to deal with.

“Holy shit.” He manages to slur to Harry, crawling back over to him. Louis lies down on his back and Harry gives him a confused expression, cock still lying rock hard and leaking against his stomach. “Come up here,” Louis gestures, patting his chest. “Kneel over me, yeah?”

Harry bites his lip, rolling onto his side and crawling onto his knees, shuffling himself up Louis’ chest. Louis runs his hands down Harry’s sides, feeling the indentations of his ribs before coming to rest at the sharp jut of his hipbones. “Fuck, so nice.”

Harry almost purrs at the attention, basking in the way Louis takes in every last detail of his body. Louis lets his fingers wander around to Harry’s ass, snaking between his cheeks and ghosting over his hole. Harry sighs in content as Louis rubs his finger over Harry’s rim, toying with him, just revelling in how it feels under his fingertips. 

“Are you close?” Louis asks him, pushing in with just one digit. Harry still feels tight, just around that.

“So close, Lou.” Harry whimpers back, breath catching in his throat when Louis curls a finger inside him. 

“Yeah?” Louis responds, wrapping a steady hand around the base of Harry’s cock, stroking slow and rubbing his thumb over the tip, getting it wet. Harry doesn’t reply, just throws his head back and lets out silent moans, his hands running through his hair, brushing it back off his face. 

Louis props himself up with his free elbow, closer to Harry. It’s Harry’s sweat slick, golden skin and his chest heaving up and down, the soft mewls falling from his lips and the muscles in his abdomen clenching that leave Louis no room for embarrassment when the next few words slip past his lips. “You look so beautiful.”

Harry’s fingers shoot to Louis’ shoulders, fingertips digging in to the flesh there as Louis jerks him off fast and hard now. His face is a masterpiece, barely able to keep his eyes open as wave after wave of pleasure rush through him. Louis can tell he’s about to push Harry over the line, how he’s almost shaking under Louis’ touch.

“Oh my god, _Louis._ ” Harry cries as he comes, all over Louis’ fist and the bare skin of his chest. Louis just watches in awe as the sticky white splattering coats the heavy rise and fall of his ribcage. Harry folds in on himself, letting his shoulders sag and planting his hands either side of Louis on the mattress, catching his breath. 

Louis spreads his palm, it’s coated in Harry’s come and for a split second Louis thinks about licking it off. The voice in his head says it might just be a _bit_ too soon for comeplay though and he settles for wiping it on a shirt he finds next to them on the floor. Harry sucks in a deep breath, pulling his head back up and sitting straight. Louis watches as Harry takes him in, how his eyes light up when they drag over Louis’ skin. 

“S’all over you.” Harry mumbles with a slight smirk, wiping a drop with the pad on his thumb.

“Would you judge me if I said I found that hot?” Louis grins. He licks his lips, wrapping an arm around Harry’s back and shuffling so he’s upright with him in his lap. 

“Maybe,” Harry slurs, an arm slung around Louis’ neck. He takes the other and trails his fingers over Louis’ chest, spreading his palm over the mess there. “I think everything you do is hot though, so we’re even.”

Louis scoffs, rolling his eyes softly. He kisses the tip of Harry’s chin and then the side of his mouth before sliding their lips together, chaste as anything. They stay there for a while, kissing gently and relishing in the relaxed, hazy state that post morning sex always seems to deliver. 

Louis hears the familiar buzz of a phone as they break apart, a mental reminder of the outside world waiting for them. He pats Harry’s thigh, smoothing it softly. “Fancy a quick swim to clean up before we leave?”

Harry pouts, fluttering his dark eyelashes at Louis. “No.”

Louis raises his eyebrows, mimicking Harry’s pout. “Oh, really. You got a better idea then?”

“I do.” Harry nods, fingers lacing in Louis’ hair, playing idly. “We become creatures of the forest. Me and you, abandon civilisation and live off the fat of the land. We can build a log cabin and adopt little baby forest animals and raise them as our own.”

Louis grins, his hands rubbing gently at Harry’s hips. “Yeah? Imagine the headlines. Missing popstars thought to have abandoned modern world for a gay life of sinning in the forest.” 

Harry barks out a laugh, head lolling forward. He meets Louis’ eye, dimples deep as craters. “You’d have to get a pun about morning wood in there somewhere.”

Louis giggles back at Harry, holding him close. He’s so full of love, it keeps hitting him over and over again. They’re so good, so right. It would be easy to keep that love a secret, to hide it behind bright stage lights and keep it on seemingly separate sides of the ocean. They could have it for themselves, cover it with cotton bed sheets and only whisper each others names underneath them. It wouldn’t be weak, nor cowardly. Louis thinks that letting himself fall into Harry, letting himself break that barrier is the bravest thing he’s done in a long time. 

But then he thinks about the flip side, about what it would be like to put that on display for the rest of the world to see. For all those times he stood on the opposite end of the stage to Harry, reminding himself not to glance over at him. All the times he stood with his hands in his pockets, not trusting himself to keep from subconsciously reaching out to touch. All the people that told him he wasn’t good enough the way he was. That his mannerisms were all wrong, too flamboyant, too effeminate. He thinks about standing there as himself, completely himself, just the way he wants to be. Letting the world in on what should’ve never had to be a secret to begin with. 

Louis realises he’s been quiet for a while, Harry still perched in his lap, playing with his hair. He leans back, holding Harry’s face between his hands. Harry offers him a quizzical glance, small smile twitching at the corner of his lips when Louis strokes his jaw with his thumbs. “Can I ask you something?”

Harry nods, blinking back slow at Louis. “Course.”

“You want to do this, don’t you?”

Harry purses his lips, nostrils flaring as he lets out a deep breath. “More than anything.”

Louis feels himself float as Harry kisses his mouth, that simple gesture conveying more meaning than any words that could leave it.

*

The mid morning sun spills in through the creek in the window as Harry drives them along the highway. It hadn’t taken them long to pack up their stuff and get it all back into Harry’s Range Rover, most of their belongings lazily sprawled over the backseat.

Louis had expected the departure from their little forest sanctuary to taste bittersweet, but mostly it had just felt exciting, like turning over a new chapter. They’d jumped in the lake together one last time, washing away the layer of grime that had built up on their bodies, cold water startling them awake and out of there post-coital state. There was just enough time to eat breakfast, a few sandwiches Louis’d bought at the store, before they had to pack everything up and leave, back to reality. 

Louis sneaks a glance at Harry now, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel. This is his reality, him and Harry from here on out. 

Harry must catch him looking because he breaks out into a smirk, eyes flicking over to Louis. “You okay?”

Louis nods, “I’m great.”

Harry smiles, eyes back on the road as he switches lanes to overtake. “Nervous for this meeting later?”

“Honestly, not really.” Louis shrugs, and he means it. “I genuinely don’t give a shit what anyone at fucking Sony has to say about us.” 

Harry laughs softly, nodding his head in agreement. “I think we have a lot more going for us than we realise, you know?”

“How’d you mean?” Louis asks him, checking the time on his phone.

“Our contract ends in March. We don’t have to resign if we’re not happy with the circumstances.”

Louis raises his eyebrows, slightly taken aback at what Harry’s saying. “You’d really be up for that, dropping the label?”

Harry hums, flicking his indicator on and turning off at their exit. “Remember when I said I was working with Jeff and his dad? That was something we sort of went back and forth over. Like, negotiations and stuff. They were saying I’m like, a valuable asset to Sony. Like, they want me on their label y’know. If I threatened to drop ‘em, they might be more willing to take my requests into consideration.”

Louis swallows, stomach twisting slightly at Harry’s words. “You mean, requests like…coming out?”

Harry nods, keeping his eyes on the road. “Eventually, yeah. I know it sounds sort of, I dunno, selfish? But it’s all hypothetical. I wouldn’t actually have to drop anybody, just the threat of not resigning would be enough to get what I want.”

“S’not selfish.” Louis mumbles, rubbing the side of his neck. “It’s really smart to be honest with you.”

“Mm,” Harry hums. “I mean, now there’s two of us involved, it’s like a double threat. We’re half the band, Lou.”

“So hypothetically, what if we threaten to not resign in March and they say ‘okay, fuck you then’ and drop us?”

Harry pauses for a moment, pulling the hand break up as they come to stop at a red light. “Then we go find ourselves a new team. Dunno if you’re aware, but we are literally One Direction. S’not like we’re some struggling indie artist playing basement shows, is it?”

Louis lets out a quiet laugh, mulling over the information in his head. Harry makes it all sound so easy, like it’s all sunshine and rainbows and everything will work in their favour. “You know what, Haz?” Louis asks him, taking a deep breath. “I think we should drop them regardless. I really, _really_ do.”

“You serious?” Harry asks, flicking his eyes over to Louis.

“Completely.” Louis exhales. “Like, _fuck_ , what good have they done us? They kept us apart for fucking years, why should they get to profit off us now? Because that’s what they’ll do, innit? Make it into a marketing ploy. Probably start selling fucking Mr. & Mr. perfume sets with our faces on or some bullshit.” 

Harry snorts, revving the gas as the light turns amber. “Wouldn’t surprise me.”

“And it’s not just about _us_ either. We’ve putting out an album a year, touring relentlessly. Like, it’s fucking gruelling. Niall barely had time to heal his knee after surgery, they made you get on stage when you could hardly speak. Zayn literally _left_ because of how intense it all is, how shit the press was to him and how little they did about it. Fuck me, we all deserve better.” 

Louis feels adrenaline rush through him, heart pumping the more he thinks about the shit he’s been passively accepting for the past five years. It feels like a breaking point of sorts. He’s had his self esteem and confidence torn down for years by these people, he’s just beginning to realise he’s so much more than they make him out to be. “Fuck all of them. Fuck Sony, fuck Syco and most importantly _fuck_ Simon Cowell.”

Harry raises his eyebrows, a grin creeping across his face. “If I wasn’t driving I’d be making out with you right now.”

Louis lets out a breathy laugh, shaking his head softly. “Does that mean you agree with me?”

“I mean, on paper, yeah definitely. But we can’t jump into it, y’know? They could fuck us up, Lou. Like, _really_ fuck us up. If they know we’re dropping them then they’ve got no reason to support us until the end of our contract. They could literally _ruin_ our images. And the album, like if they don’t want it to do well, then it won’t do well.”

Louis sighs heavily, resting his face against the cool pane of the window glass. “How much damage can they do in less than a year?”

Harry just shrugs, eyes on the road. “I mean, I’m literally gay and there was a period of time where a good amount of the population believed I’d shagged four hundred and ten women.”

Louis splutters, rolling his eyes affectionately. “Touché.”

“But seriously, they could do a lot of damage and we’ve gotta be prepared for it. Liam and Niall too, we’ve gotta think about them.”

“I know.” Louis agrees, “I’m sure Niall is sick of not being allowed to have a public girlfriend or let his fucking hair grow out brunette. And Liam too, you know how much he loves writing songs and producing. Imagine how incredible he’d be if he had the creative freedom and _time_ to actually do things properly.”

Harry nods in response, slowing the car as he turns into the gated community. “When we get in, we’ll Skype with them, yeah? I know Liam’s with Soph so he might not pick up, but Niall’s worth a shot.”

“Yeah definitely. Niall’s gonna be at the meeting later so we’ve gotta let him know whats going down beforehand anyway.”

“Sorted.” Harry agrees as he pulls into his driveway, rolling the window down to punch in the code for the gate. Louis squeezes his thigh, just once, just because he can.

*

“I’ll get it.” Louis calls as he hears the doorbell ring. They’d texted Niall about the possibility of a Skype date, but he’d opted for calling around instead seeing as he was in the neighbourhood anyway. 

Louis saunters over to Harry’s front door, legs still feeling a little shaky from the shower he’d shared with Harry earlier. A shower that may or may not have included mutual blow jobs. 

He swings the door open and is greeted with a one armed, yet enthusiastic, hug from Niall. “So weird seeing you open Harry’s door.” Niall exclaims, patting Louis on the back. “Mm, get used to it.” Louis laughs, shutting the door behind him and leading him into the living room where Harry’s sat. He waves at the two of them from where he’s sat on the sofa, tiny red gym shorts and a cotton t-shirt, hair thrown up in a bun. “Hello,” he sings, grinning at them.

Niall flops himself down next to Harry on the sofa, pulling him into a hug. “Hiiii, Harry.” He replies, dragging out the words like a song.

“Hiiii, Niall.” Harry mimics him, leaning his head against Niall’s shoulder. 

“Alright, bloody hell.” Louis interjects bouncing himself down next to Niall. “This _is_ my boyfriend you’re flirting with.”

Niall raises his eyebrows, mouth dropping open into a smirk as he looks at Louis. “ _Boyfriend_? So it’s official then?”

Harry smiles, lips pressed together and nodding slowly. “Yup. As of last night.” Louis can’t stop his face from contorting into an embarrassingly wide grin at Harry’s words. Holy shit, they’re official. Niall slings an arm over the both of their shoulders, pulling them in tight. “Love you boys.”

They all giggle, wrapping their arms around each other and it feels reminiscent of the early days. The times when they'd all pile on top of each other for no reason in particular other than they liked the close proximity. When they pull apart, Louis tweaks Niall’s nipple. “So, me and Harry need to talk to you about something.”

“If it’s a threesome proposal I love you but not that much.”

“Dammit,” Louis sighs playfully, “Knew we should have gone for Liam.”

Harry chuckles, reaching in front of Niall to poke Louis’ cheek. Louis bites at his finger, forgetting Niall’s existence for a second. He’s quickly reminded by Niall obnoxiously clearing his throat. 

“Shall we try and Skype Liam first, so we can all talk about it together?” Harry suggests, chewing his thumbnail. 

“Why?” Niall interjects, worry in his voice. “What’s going on?”

“S’nothing bad, Niall.” Louis assures him, “Just…contract stuff.”

“You don’t want to resign, do you?” Niall replies almost instantly.

Harry and Louis blink at each other, surprised he caught on so easily. “How did you…” Harry begins.

“I mean, why would ya?” Niall shrugs. “Don’t blame either of you at all.”

“Are you…pissed off?” Louis asks quietly, biting his lip.

Niall shakes his head, furrowing his eyebrows. “Of course not. I’m just worried, I suppose. S’quite a big deal, like.”

Harry nods at him, focused gaze. “Yeah, it is. But we think it’s best for all of us, y’know. We could sign with a new label, now we’ve got experience and pulling power we can choose what’s best for us as a band.”

“I’m with you completely. Our contracts are a fuckin’ joke, s’just the thought of getting on the wrong side of Sony.” Niall ponders, chewing his lip.

Louis swallows, he sees the way Harry’s eyes are glued to floor and suddenly he wishes Niall wasn't sat in between them. Wants to hold Harry’s hand. “What’s the worst they can do?” Louis asks, sounding a lot braver than he feels. “Honestly, we know who we are. The fans know who we are. Our team fucking up album promo is nothing new, and neither is making us look like complete dickheads in the press.” He flicks his fringe, swiping through it with his fingers. “I’m not scared of them.”

Niall purses his lips, shoots the two of them a thoughtful expression. “So we don’t resign. We find a new label, then what happens?”

Harry meets Louis’ eye, there’s vulnerability there and it makes Louis’ stomach jump. “Me and Harry go public.”

Niall blows out a neat stream of air, raising his eyebrows. “You’re really ready for that?”

And Louis gets it, totally understands where Niall is coming from. They’ve been a couple for less than twenty four hours and they’re already making plans to come out to millions of fans and the rest of the world. But it already feels so set in stone that this isn’t something temporary. Louis knows it might be ridiculous, but he truly believes Harry’s going to be a part of him forever. It’s been building up and building up for five years, like someones been laying out stepping stones and they’ve finally reached the other side of the stream. 

“Yeah.” Harry answers for him. “I don’t want to hide who I am anymore. I shouldn’t have to. Neither should Louis.”

“I know that.” Niall replies, running a hand through his hair. “But you’re going to be _bombarded_. Like, nobody’ll leave you alone. Has there ever been a same sex couple in boy band before? You’re world firsts, imagine how much pap pics of the two of you’ll go for.”

Louis swallows, he honestly hadn’t even really considered that aspect. “Well s’either that or carry on the way we are. Like, at this point I’m barely allowed to acknowledge Harry’s existence.”

“The positives outweigh the negatives, like, massively.” Harry chips in, twisting the rings on his fingers. “And people’ll get bored after a while, won’t they? I mean, for the first few months it’ll be…extreme. But, s’worth it in the end.”

Louis nods, humming in agreement. “And I know this all seems really soon and a bit dramatic, but, me and Harry know what we want.”

“S’not not just about us either, y’know.” Harry says quietly, glancing at the two of them. “We’ve got a huge platform, and I wanna use it. D’you know how many kids could benefit from seeing me and Louis out? We could actually _help_ people, we could make a difference.” 

Louis watches Harry’s eyes light up at that and he reaches over Niall’s shoulder, just resting his fingers against Harry’s back in a gesture he hopes is reassuring. “Exactly.”

“If you two are really serious about this, then you know I support you one hundred percent.” Niall replies, patting Harry’s leg. “I want you both to be happy and if this is what makes you happy, then I’m happy too. It’s been _shit_ watching you avoid each other for years, especially when I could see there was something there. To be honest with you, I always knew you’d end up together though.”

Louis groans, poking Niall in the side. “ _Really?_ ”

“Yeah!” Niall laughs, “I remember saying to Zayn once, in the X-Factor house, ‘twenty quid they’ll end up shagging.’ I should ring him and tell him he owes me money.”

Harry snorts, rolling his eyes. “We need to tell Zayn, he doesn’t even know we hooked up.”

“He’s in LA soon.” Louis replies, “Invite him over and we’ll tell him face to face.” It feels like they owe Zayn more than just a hurried explanation over the phone. Zayn had been a huge part of Louis’ life, he’d latched onto him when Louis’ relationship with Harry had been the most strained. Louis recalls nights on the bus where they’d get too drunk or too stoned and he’d cry into Zayn’s shoulder, letting Zayn stroke his hair and pat his back, never offering him an explanation as for why he was crying to begin with.

“We should Skype Liam.” Niall offers, glancing at the clock. It’s not long before they have to leave for Sony and the thought makes Louis bite at his lip. 

Harry stands up, brushing himself down. “I’ll go grab my laptop from my room.”

He gives Louis a small smile as he walks past the sofa and Louis can’t resist reaching out and pulling Harry’s t-shirt down over the strip of skin between his shorts and hem of his shirt. He taps Harry’s hips and grins up at him, Harry dimpling and tucking his hair behind his ears before leaving the room.

“Gross.” Niall laughs, shaking his head affectionately. “Quick, while Harry’s gone, who made the first move.”

Louis rolls his eyes, shrugging. “It was a mutual making of moves.”

“Psh.” Niall splutters, “You’re not even gonna tell me how your first kiss went down?” Louis feels himself blush as he recalls the memory, how they’d been a little bit tipsy but completely overwhelmed by each other. How terrifying and completely safe it’d felt all at once. 

“Nah, it’s a secret.” Louis shrugs, flashing Niall a cheeky grin when he sighs in mock disappointment.

“I’m sure it was disgustingly sappy and unnecessarily romantic however it went down.

Louis nods, “Something like that.”

*

They manage to get Liam on Skye and the conversation goes pretty much exactly how Louis had expected it to go. Liam’s sensible is the thing, always has been and always will be no matter how much the rest of the boys have seemingly corrupted him over the years. And he’s got this ambition, one of the most driven people Louis has ever met and a business mind to match it. When Liam’s face drops a little the moment Harry mentions leaving the label, Louis notices immediately. The fact that Liam quickly attempts to cover it with a definite nod is wasted on him.

Liam’s sensible, and his reaction is what Louis expects because dropping the label isn’t sensible, not really. It’s not sensible to essentially ignore your bandmate for years and it’s _definitely_ not sensible to declare your undying love for them either. That’s not how it’s meant to go. That’s not what anybody at the record label wants to deal with.

Louis remembers back at the X-Factor, when they first got put together, he remembers how him and Liam were always at odds with each other. Liam’d always nag him about ‘taking it a bit more seriously’ or ‘focusing more in rehearsals.’ It probably goes without saying that Louis’ main distraction during X-Factor—and pretty much the rest of his life since—has been Harry. They’d stay up talking all night and be late to rehearsals because they slept in. Louis’d forget the choreography because he spent most of the lessons more focused on trying to make Harry laugh than actually learning the steps. And god, that must have been annoying for Liam, for all the boys, but Liam especially. Liam, the boy who’d auditioned once before, who came back with a point to prove and instead got lumped in with a group of lads less experienced and a little less serious about the whole thing than he was. 

That’s why Louis can’t help but feel guilty as he watches Liam try to hide his look of worry as Harry tells him about their plans. Here Louis is, throwing a spanner in the works of a machine that up until this far had been working pretty decently. It’s not been ideal, of course it hasn’t. Louis’d meant what he said about how dropping the label would be better for all of them, but he can’t help feeling like it’s leaning more in his and Harry’s favour. 

That’s why Louis interrupts Harry, a choked up “Fuck, I’m sorry Liam,” falling from his lips.

Liam looks at him through the screen, eyebrows furrowed together in confusion. “Sorry for what, mate?”

Harry and Niall are silent next to him, Niall biting his thumbnail the way he always does when the situation starts to get a little awkward.

“I dunno, being a bit of a dickhead. Like, for years.”

All three boys blink back at him, the room silent as someone tries to figure out exactly what sort of tangent Louis’ going off on. “Erm…” Liam begins, clearing his throat. “That’s alright?”

“No, I mean it.” Louis persists, he always gets like this. Once he’s started something he can’t help but keep going. “Sorry that I don’t always take everything seriously and that I fuck around a lot and drag you into it. I’m sorry…I’m sorry I don’t make your life easy.” He takes a deep breath, getting ready to speak again before anybody else gets a chance to. “I just—I dunno it’s just me and Harry, what we’re doing. That’s gonna affect both of you, you and Niall and it’s probably going to be a bit shit for a while.”

He hears Harry’s breath catch in his throat and suddenly he has a whole other person to apologise to, to feel guilty about. They’ve been over that though, that’s done with and instead of speaking he just reaches out and cups Harry’s knee, rubbing his thumb against the bone. 

“Louis.” Liam speaks, voice cracking a bit and it might just be the quality of the laptop speaker but the way his lips quiver suggests otherwise. “I literally have no idea why you’re apologising. Like, none. D’you think I’d be anything but one hundred percent support of you and Harry?” 

Louis swallows at that, of course he doesn’t think that. He doesn’t think that at all. Liam’s one of his best friends in the world, he’s supportive and understanding and Louis knows he’s not a dickhead. “I don’t think that.” Louis says, “I don’t. I’m just…I just feel a bit of an inconvenience is all.”

Niall shakes his head at that, scoffing quietly. “You’re an idiot is what you are. Me and Liam love you and Harry, like, loads. We want the best for you and you two being happy isn’t an _inconvenience._ ”

Niall puts his arm around Harry, pulling him into his side and messing with his hair. Harry groans playfully, leaning into Niall, although his knee still presses against Louis’. “We’re all in it together.” Liam states through the screen. “We’re a team, aren’t we? We’ve all got each others backs and we support each other through everything, yeah?”

They all nod back at him in unison, almost like it’s choreographed. 

“Like brothers.” Liam adds. “Well… _some_ of us are like brothers.” He gestures towards Harry and Louis. “You pair…let’s not go with brothers.”

That makes all four of them laugh and soon the Skype call becomes nothing but a mass of cackles all merging together in one tinny symphony through the laptop speakers. There’s a collective intake of breath, the type that’s littered with little laughs after a quick burst of hysterics. Liam grins back at them through the laptop, looking slightly out of frame before he speaks again. “I’ve gotta get going lads. Me and Sophia are heading down to see the Formula One place in a bit.”

Niall snorts, “Payno, do you even know the name of a singular Formula One driver?”

“To be honest with you, I’d struggle to pull one of the top of my head. Soph’s well into it though, she proper watches all the races and everything. She’s dying to go.”

“Not that you’re whipped or anything then.” Harry teases, flashing Liam’s image a cheeky grin.

Liam shakes his head, “I prefer to call it _accommodating._ ”

“Nah, you’re whipped.” Louis adds, laughing when Liam flips him off.

“Alright lads, enjoy the meeting, yeah? Good luck with it all, you’ll be fine.” Liam tells them, and there’s something in his tone that makes Louis believe it. 

“Bye, Li.” Harry offers, waving a big hand at him. “Love you.”

“Love you too Mr. Styles. See you boys, love you both too.”

“Later Payno, love ya!” Niall chips in offering him a wave.

Louis swallows, pressing his lips together and giving Liam a smile that he hopes conveys at least some of the millions of emotions stirring around in his brain. “See you Liam, love you mate.”

*

“You signed a contract.” 

It’s those four words that let Louis know that nothing about this is going to be easy. Just those four words are all it takes for Louis’ brain to scream at him to run for the door and never look back. The thing is, a few months ago he probably would have done. A few months ago, if someone had given him a slap on the wrist for standing too close to Harry on stage he would have licked his wound before apologising and promising not to do it again. 

But this isn’t a few months ago, this is now. And what Louis does _now_ is what’s important, not what he would have done or used to do. That’s something he’s beginning to realise. What Louis does instead is look the label exec right in the eyes and clear his throat. “And that contract ends in March.”

It’s like Louis can feel the atmosphere shift around him. It’s like he can feel everybody in the room getting out their imaginary armour, like they’re just waiting for the battle to begin. “You do realise you’re making an incredibly rash and unprofessional proposition, Mr. Tomlinson?”

He hears Niall scoff next to him and he’s thankful for that, for someone there to scoff at the embarrassing tone of voice, irritatingly authoritarian and completely condescending. Louis blinks back at the room of professionals in suits, he’s met by what feels like a million pairs of eyes and even more glowing apples from the back of laptop screens. He can hear the sound of someone typing up every word that gets said and it throws him off a little, the thought of every last word being documented. 

“It’s just a proposition at the moment.” Harry begins, his voice like a flotation device in a stormy sea, something safe for Louis to latch onto. “We might be willing to negotiate.”

“Negotiate?” An older man Louis doesn’t even recognise asks, “Negotiate what exactly?”

“You need us.” Louis interjects because he’s feeling brave and it might slip away from him if he doesn’t put it on the table. “We’re your biggest selling artists.”

Louis hears someone swallow and another clear their throat a little awkwardly. This is the moment, Louis thinks, this is the moment where shit hits the fan. 

“Would I be correct in assuming that your proposition is either improved working conditions or a refusal to resign?” The same old man asks.

Niall lets out a sarcastic laugh and Louis’ eyes shoot to him. “ _Improved working conditions_?” He mocks, “Are you having a laugh? Improved working conditions is upgrading the coffee machine or getting new desk chairs. We’re talking about not having to _lie_ about who you are. About Harry and Louis being able to fuckin’ _look_ at each other without it being the end of the world.”

Louis loves Niall, like, he really does love Niall. Niall is great.

Harry breathes out a shaky breath, his foot nudging Louis’ under the table. “We won’t be resigning.” He folds his arms over his chest. “That’s our proposition. I’ve decided.”

Holy shit, does Louis want to fling himself into Harry’s lap and kiss the life out of him. He’s so fucking brilliant. He’s fucking amazing and Louis is so fucking in love with him.

A woman speaks up now, maybe her name is Kathy, or Katy. Louis doesn’t really give a fuck. “And the rest of your band, Mr. Styles. You’re a four piece are you not?”

Louis can’t keep his mouth shut any longer. “We’ve come to a mutual decision. It’s mutual. We’re not resigning.”

Niall nods next to him. “It’s decided.”

The woman speaks again. “You must realise this is a lengthy process? It’s not just something to be decided on a whim. Payne isn’t even present so nothing can be formally decided upon as it is.”

“That’s fine.” Harry shrugs. “We’ve got until March to all get together and sort this out, haven’t we?”

“I’d advise you to really consider your options, boys.” A man chips in, his name is Dean. Louis’ always quite liked Dean, out of all them, he’s alright. “What you’re proposing is a big deal. You’d essentially become unsigned artists, it’ll affect future revenue, album release dates, tour scheduling. It’s a big risk to drop everything. Even if you were to sign elsewhere, there’s a transition period that needs to be planned and accounted for months before hand.”

“Well, like she said—“ Louis gestures to Katy, or Kathy, “—We’ve not got to decide anything right now.”

Dean nods, sitting back in his seat like he’s said his part and remembered all the right lines.

“Well, there’s no point in continuing this meeting any further if this is the only topic you wish to discuss. Without Mr. Payne present it’s impossible to make much progress.” The older man Louis doesn’t really know but definitely hates speaks over the table.

The loud sound of Harry’s chair scraping back against the hardwood floor as he stands up almost makes Louis’ jump out of his own seat. He scrambles up out of his own chair, watching Niall do the same. 

“Great meeting.” Louis can’t help but quip as the three of them leave the room, letting the door slam shut behind them.

“Fuckin’ hell.” Niall sighs, blowing out a deep breath. “Need a cigarette after that.” 

Louis laughs half heartedly, nodding in agreement as he links his hand with Harry’s. It’s hot and damp with sweat and Louis can feel Harry’s pulse pumping when he thumbs over his wrist.

They make their way back over to the car park and Niall gives them both a quick hug before jumping into his Range Rover and pulling out too fast onto the highway.

Harry fumbles for his keys in his pocket, unlocking the car doors. Louis opens his door for him, just because it feels like the right thing to do.

Harry’s all tense, Louis can feel it even from the passenger seat as Harry slides the car into gear. He keeps both hands on the steering wheel as he drives and Louis sucks in a sharp breath when he notices Harry’s knuckles are white from how tight he’s holding on. He hasn’t plugged the AUX cord in either and there’s a stilted silence that fills the car, just their shallow breaths breaking it.

“Haz,” Louis says, his voice soft. “Are you alright?”

Harry breathes in heavily. “I’m really pissed off, Lou.” His voice is heavy in his throat, sounds about five octaves lower than it usually does. It sounds hot.

“Yeah?” Louis asks him, sliding his hand to rest on Harry’s thigh. He can feel the heat of his skin through his jeans and it’s slightly intoxicating. “You’re all tense.”

“I know.” Harry replies, keeping his eyes on the road. “Fucking dickheads.”

Louis licks his lips, tracing his fingers along Harry’s thigh. “Does this help?”

Harry nods, “Loads.”

He keeps going, just trailing the tips of his fingers over Harry’s legs. He traces imaginary patterns, swirls and circles and a big heart because he’s fucking cheesy. He’s in the middle of going over the heart again when he looks up for a moment, and okay, _right._ Either he’s having a mirage in the hot LA sun or Harry’s hard in his jeans. He’s not entirely sure what to do in this situation. Road head is definitely a thing. Most definitely a thing. There’s also a good chance he’ll put his hand on Harry’s cock and cause a car crash and that’s the last thing he needs. _One Direction stars involved in road accident, thought to be caused by performing sex act inside moving vehicle._ That’d be a real page turner.

The decision is almost made for him when Harry takes a sharp left and Louis’ hand bumps up against Harry’s erection. Harry takes a deep inhale, “Fuck.”

“You want me to?” Louis asks, moving his palm to press against Harry’s crotch again. “You can drive whilst I get you off?”

Harry’s eyelashes flutter and he sinks his teeth into his bottom lip. “I can do it.”

Jesus. This is so ridiculous. They’ve got tinted windows but anyone can see in through the windscreen. He fiddles with Harry’s button, unzipping his fly and he almost chokes when he gets it down and Harry’s completely nude underneath.

“Oh my god. You’re seriously not wearing underwear?”

Harry smirks, pulling back into the lefthand lane. “Nope.”

“Fuck.” Louis breathes out, “You’re fucking filthy.”

“Can you get me off now please?”

Who is Harry Styles? Is he actually a real person, because Louis isn’t so sure that he is. Who goes to a meeting with one of the biggest record labels in the world wearing no underwear and then asks ever so politely to be wanked off in the car journey home?

Louis responds to Harry’s request by taking Harry’s cock out of his jeans and wrapping his fist around the base. Harry lets out a whine and Louis can literally feel the tension start to seep out of him.

“Please don’t crash the car.” Louis says, beginning to work up an easy rhythm. “Not that dying with your cock in my hand wouldn’t be a lovely way to go or anything. It’s just I’m rather enjoying being alive currently.”

Louis doesn’t know why he lets himself think about that last sentence so much. Why he finds himself having to bite back a face splitting smile at the sheer happiness he’s feeling right now. He’s wanking Harry off in the middle of the highway, he shouldn’t be getting sappy. But, _god_ , is he enjoying being alive currently.

Harry’s not too good at keeping still. He ruts his hips up in little fractions, as much as he can whilst still keeping his foot on the gas. His fingers clench and unclench around the wheel like he needs something to hold onto, something to ground him as Louis works his fist up and down Harry’s length. There’s no lube and it should feel dry and like there’s too much friction but Harry gets so fucking _wet_. He leaks pre come almost as soon as Louis starts to touch him, Louis spreads it all over Harry’s cock and it creates a delicious slide when paired with Louis’ spit. 

Louis looks up, out of the window. They aren’t far away now, less than a few minutes. He sort of wants to keep Harry hanging on the edge, not let him come until they’re home. Harry’ll probably thank him later for the prevention of come stains all over the interior of his very expensive car.

“Think you can last?” Louis asks him, dropping his voice. “Don’t want you to come until we’re at yours.”

Harry lets out a high moan, goes to throw his head back before he remembers he’s meant to be keeping his eyes on the road. “Yeah,” He breathes out, “Yeah I can last.”

“Good.” Louis says in a voice he hopes sounds remotely sexy. “Good.”

It’s quiet for the remaining minutes of the journey, Harry’s breathing is heavy and he keeps letting out these strained whimpers on exhales and his fingers wont stop twitching against the wheel. Louis’ stroking him so slowly, he’s got a loose grip on him too, fingers practically ghosting over the skin. 

“Almost there, Haz.” Louis whispers, resisting the urge to swipe his thumb over the sensitive head, spread the pre come that’s pooling there. 

“Fucking traffic.” Harry grunts, driving much too close to the car in front. Louis keeps his face straight, looking ahead out of the windshield and praying that his hand and Harry’s fucking _cock_ are hidden out of sight. 

The car in front makes a turn and finally it’s just them on the road and Harry can drive as fast as he wants too, which is _very_ fast. Louis is only slightly fearing for his life.

He latches his mouth onto Harry’s neck, sucking a kiss there as Harry’s driveway finally appears in his vision. He keeps jerking Harry off, licking over his neck and Harry punches the passcode into the gate with shaking fingers. 

The car’s barely come to a stop by the time Harry is ripping his seatbelt off, launching himself at Louis and connecting their mouths. He kisses him fast but not hard, it’s all wet and there’s probably too much tongue but it’s _so_ hot. Louis’ hand is still on Harry’s cock and Harry has to break the kiss to suck in a sharp breath.

Louis mumbles against Harry’s mouth, “Inside.” He unfastens his own seatbelt, opening his door as Harry does the same. When they finally get out of the car Harry’s stood there, not even bothered to tuck his dick back in his jeans. Louis stares at him, eyes bulging out of his head. “You’re fucking _strange_ , y’know that?” 

Harry just nods, fumbling with his keys and unlocking the front door.

“That’s public indecency. What if your neighbour was just out for a leisurely stroll and popped their head round the gate to say hello and got an eye full of cock?”

“Fancy using your mouth to suck me off instead of talking shit?” Harry quips as he gets the door open, stumbling inside.

Louis raises his eyebrows, corners of his mouth twitching into a smirk. This is definitely a side of Harry he wants to explore more often. 

They don’t get very far, Harry shuts the door and pins Louis’ against it. It makes Louis weak in the knees when he remembers this isn’t the first time he’s found himself pinned to a door by Harry Styles. Harry kisses him again, cupping his face with both hands as he slides their lips together, hot and heavy.

Harry’s rocking his hips up against Louis’, hard cock rubbing against Louis’ stomach. Louis takes it into his hand instead, letting himself slide down the wall onto his knees beneath Harry. 

“ _God_ , yeah.” Harry mewls, hands going straight to Louis’ hair. Louis takes Harry into his mouth, he’s so hard and so close already that Louis doesn’t bother with tactic or finesse, just goes for it. Harry’s thick and wet inside Louis’ mouth and his hands are pulling at his hair as he sucks him, taste on his tongue.

It doesn’t take long for Harry to come and when he does it’s with a cry, his muscles twitching and his fingers tugging at the back of Louis’ hair. Louis swallows most of it, getting some on his cheek and his chin because he’s still new to this and come isn’t the easiest thing to get down your throat in one go.

Before he can get his thoughts together, Harry’s pulling him up off the floor, connecting their mouths again. Louis’ still got Harry’s come all over his face, fuck—it’s filthy but it’s almost painfully hot. 

Louis doesn’t even realise he’s rock hard until Harry palms him through his jeans, uttering a quiet “Let me?” into Louis’ mouth.

Louis nods, letting Harry take his hand and lead him into the bedroom. Harry lays him down on the bed, wipes the come off his face before unbuttoning Louis’ jeans and sucking Louis’ cock into his mouth. Louis could die and go to heaven in the middle of Harry sucking his dick and it wouldn’t feel any different. He’s just so, _so_ good at it.

Harry gets him to an orgasm in what feels like record time, swallowing every last drop of it before crawling back up Louis’ body and kissing him slow. Louis feels like he can’t move, like someone’s sellotaped him to the bed. All he can do is let Harry cover his body with his own, his hands in Louis’ hair and on his face and all over him. 

They stay like that for so long that Louis’ lips actually start to hurt from kissing, they feel all swollen and tingly against Harry’s. After a little while longer, Harry sits up and rolls off him, settling from draping an arm across Louis’ middle.

“Did that really just happen?” Harry asks with a smirk, Louis’ breath catching in his throat when Harry wraps his around his soft dick, tucking in back in Louis’ jeans and doing up the zip.

“Unless I’m in some hyper realistic wet dream, then yes, it did.” Louis replies, smoothing over Harry’s back with his palm.

“You wanked me off whilst I was driving. And we told Sony we’re dropping them. And you wanked me off whilst I was driving.”

Louis lets out a laugh, nodding his head. “Hm, yep. Sounds about right.”

“Jesus.” Harry utters, letting out a heavy breath. “Bit risky that, wasn’t it?”

“Are we talking about the wanking or the dropping of the label?”

Harry snorts, playing with Louis’ fingers. “Well, both. But I was thinking specifically about the wanking.”

“When are you _not_ thinking about the wanking?”

Harry pinches his side, “I believe _you_ were the one that initiated the hand job in the car?”

Louis pouts at that, “Only because I thought you needed it.”

He sees Harry go a bit still at that, blinking his eyelashes fast. “Yeah.” He breathes out, “I did to be honest. Thank you.”

“You don't have to _thank_ me.” Louis chuckles, placing a kiss to the top of Harry’s head. “It was nice, I liked it. Helping you get rid of all that tension, sorta?”

Harry nods. “Mm. I just fucking _hate_ those meetings.”

Louis strokes his hair, pulling it between his fingers. “Wanna talk about it?”

“Nah.” Harry sighs, “Not right now anyway.”

“Okay.” Louis tells him. And it is okay, they’ve got all the time in the world to talk about things. All the time in the world to get to know each other again, to fall back into sync like they never fell out of it to begin with. 

“I’ve gotta go see Jeff later.” Harry says, a hint of uncertainty in his voice.

Louis twirls one of Harry’s curls around his finger, “When’s later?”

“About seven, we’re going for dinner.”

“Anywhere nice?” Louis asks, hooking an ankle over Harry’s.

Harry hums, “This place called Govinda’s. S’like…vegan. Really good quinoa.”

“I can’t believe my boyfriend is so indie he eats quinoa.” Louis teases, flicking Harry’s nipple.

Harry just smiles at him, tracing his fingers over Louis’ hip. “I can’t believe my boyfriend is you.”

“You absolute sap.” Louis whines, squeezing Harry. Harry chuckles softly, wrapping his arms around Louis tight.

“S’true through.”

Louis hooks his finger under Harry’s chin and reaches up to place his mouth against Harry’s kiss swollen lips. “Love you.” He mutters against Harry’s mouth.

“Love you too.” Harry grins as they break apart, Louis resting his head against Harry’s chest. “I’ve gotta get ready.”

“Shall I call a car?” Louis asks him.

“What for?”

“Take me back to mine, innit.”

“Oh.” Harry pauses, “Uh, I thought, y’know. You could stay here if you wanted? Like, while I’m out with Jeff.”

Louis bites his lip, pressing his thumb into Harry’s hip. “Would you mind?”

“Course not.” Harry says, shaking his head. “Unless you’ve gotta do stuff at yours? When’ve you got the house until?”

Louis gets a mental image of his iPhone calendar inside his brain. “Pretty sure it’s paid for for another few days. I can go pick up my stuff tomorrow or something. I didn’t bring much anyway, just a couple of suitcases.”

Harry nods, “Okay. Well, you’re welcome to any of my stuff in the mean time. Clothes, food, toiletries, the lot.”

“So kind of you.” Louis teases, patting Harry’s stomach. “Can I take a shower whilst you get ready?”

Harry kisses his cheek. “Of course.”

*

Louis lounges on Harry’s couch, wrapped up in the duvet he stole from Harry’s master bedroom. It’s clean white, soft and it smells like Harry as Louis burrows the side of his face into it. It’s all warm, the room and the atmosphere and the feeling inside Louis’ chest. He’s pulled the curtains closed over the bay windows, shutting the dark outside. The ceiling lights are dimmed and they cast a subtle glow over the room, unobtrusive and welcoming. His eyes flicker between the TV screen and his phone, a documentary about the ocean playing on low volume. 

His phone vibrates in his palm and he feels himself smile as he reads the notification, a text from Harry. He unlocks the screen and opens the message, grin creeping right across his face as he reads the text. 

**‘Jeff says hi. Trying to convince me to come on a double date with you and Glenne.’**

There’s a picture attached and Louis purses his lips, stomach fluttering when he opens it. It’s Harry and Jeff, smirking into the camera, shooting cheesy thumbs up. He finds himself staring at it for a little too long, taking in the details of Harry’s features, how cute he looks when he pokes his tongue out of the side of his mouth. 

Louis holds his phone up, opening the front camera and snapping a shot of himself with his thumb pointing down and lips pouted. He types in a message underneath it,

‘ **nah , straight couples are boring.** ’

He adds a little snoozing emoji, for dramatic effect. He smiles at his phone, locking it and resting it on the arm of the sofa. It feels surreal to be sat in Harry’s living room, bundled up in his sheets and messing about with him and Jeff. He feels at home, he feels safe and warm and accepted. Like he’s found himself a sanctuary here in LA, surrounded by people who love and support him. And for the first time in a long time, he feels like he supports himself. Like he isn’t fighting an internal battle with his very being every morning, like he’s not pushing away a massive part of him and pretending it doesn’t exist. This is him. It’s who he’s always been and who he’s always going to be. 

His phone starts to buzz again, although it’s prolonged this time, a call. He finds himself subconsciously fixing his hair and holding back a smile when he reads the contact name on the screen, ‘Harry’. 

“Hey.” He answers softly, warmth filling his stomach when Harry’s low voice replies, all tinny through the speaker.

“Hiya.”

“You alright?” Louis asks, muting the TV.

“M’great. Just letting you know I’m leaving now, so, uh, I should be home soon.” Louis feels a smile spread across his face, endeared by the words Harry’s spilling through the phone.

“You could’ve just texted me that.” Louis teases, pulling the duvet further up over his body.

“Yeah, I know. Feels a bit more personal this though, doesn’t it?”

Louis chuckles softly, “How’d you mean?”

“Like, just ringing to tell my boyfriend I’m nearly home. I said that to Jeff, I was like ‘oh I’m just gonna give my boyfriend a call,’. Completely obnoxious, could easily have said Louis but it’s more fun to say boyfriend.” 

Louis has to physically concentrate on keeping his smile under control so he can use his mouth to speak instead. “You’re so weird.”

“You love it.”

“I do love it. I love you.” 

He hears Harry pause, wonders what his face looks like right now. “I love you too. Gonna spoon you so hard when I get in.”

“I believe I’ve already reserved the position of the big spoon.” Louis quips, tracing his fingertips along the edge of the sofa cushion.

“Well, I am quite fond of my role as little spoon.” Harry replies, his voice slow and lazy. “I’ve gotta go, Jeff’s making puking faces at me.”

Louis giggles back down the phone. “Alright, I’ll see you soon yeah?”

“Yeah, like twenty minutes tops.”

“Okay, bye.”

“Bye.” Harry draws the word out like a song.

“Bye bye.” Louis repeats, stifling a laugh.

“Bye, Lou.” Harry giggles, waiting for his response.

“We are not doing this.” Louis deadpans before chuckling softly.

“Doing what?” Harry replies, false innocence in his voice.

“We’re not being that ‘you hang up, no you hang up’ couple.”

Harry laughs as he replies, “Alright, hang up then.”

Louis pauses, pressing his lips together in a smile. “…No, you.”

Harry chortles back, his obnoxious laugh like music to Louis’ ears. “On three?” “On three.”

They count together, Louis struggling to contain his giggles at the ridiculousness of the situation. When they get to three, there’s a pause. It’s accidental but both of them end the call with an ‘I love you,’ rushed from their lips at the same time.

Louis hangs up and locks his phone. His cheeks hurt from smiling.

*

Louis’ almost asleep when he hears the front door open and Harry throwing his keys down onto the telephone table. It’s like an automatic reaction, whenever Harry’s involved he suddenly gets all warm and mushy. It’s only slightly embarrassing. 

Harry peeks through the living room door, meeting Louis’ eyes and offering him a little wave. “Hello.”

Louis yawns, sitting up on the sofa and without saying a word, extends his arms outwards making grabby motions with his hands. 

Harry barely blinks before he’s launching himself at Louis, landing right on top of him. Louis lets out a disgruntled noise, Harry’s elbow getting him right in the ribs. “You’re like a bloody Great Dane that thinks it’s a lap dog.” Louis exasperates, wriggling his way out from underneath the tangled pile of limbs that is Harry. “You’re suffocating me.”

Harry just giggles, shuffling himself around so that he’s more in Louis’ lap and less draped over the entirety of his body. He nuzzles right in to Louis’ neck, wrapping his arms around whatever part of Louis he can get to. 

Louis sort of melts, the warmth of Harry turning him into nothing more than a pile of goo with human features. “You smell nice.” Louis notes, stroking Harry’s hair down against his back. 

“So do you.” Harry mumbles into Louis’ shirt, nose tickling at his collarbones.

“Get under the covers and cuddle me properly then.” Louis replies, torn between having Harry’s warm body on top of him or regaining the feeling in his legs. 

Harry complies instantly, shrugging himself up off the sofa and letting Louis lift the blanket up so he can crawl back underneath it.

They lie side by side, there’s no where near enough room on the sofa for the both of them but Louis almost likes it that way. He tangles his legs up with Harry’s under the covers before draping an arm across him and resting his fingers on Harry’s hip underneath his shirt. His skin is soft and it’s warm, feels so nice under Louis’ fingertips.

“What are we watching?” Harry asks, craning his neck to look at the TV. 

“Mm, nothing really.” Louis replies, turning the volume down on an old episode of America’s Next Top Model that he definitely hasn’t seen at least twice before. 

“Isn’t this the episode where one of them steals the others granola bars and then the other flips out and takes revenge by pouring all her energy drinks down the sink?” Harry asks, pointing at the brunette model on the screen.

Louis laughs gently, nodding his head. “Yeah, we never get to find out if she actually did steal the granola bar though.”

Harry tuts, “Talk about a cliff hanger.”

“Riveting stuff, I know.” Louis squeezes Harry’s hip, pulling him in a little closer. “How was Jeff?”

“Good.” Harry nods, “Yeah, really good.”

Louis doesn’t know why he asks, why he feels the need to know. “Say anything about me?”

Harry juts his bottom lip out like he’s thinking. “He really likes you.”

Louis scoffs, “He barely knows me.”

“He does.” Harry shrugs, “I’ve told him a lot about you.”

“Really?” Louis asks, a twang of nerves in his stomach. “Like what?”

Harry shrugs again, pouting his lips. “I mean, he is like, one of my best friends. I talk to him a lot about, y’know…stuff.”

Louis cringes at the thought of Harry confiding in Jeff, in anyone really, about his feelings for Louis. Cringes at the thought of Harry spilling his heart out to someone, maybe crying on their shoulder because he thought Louis didn’t feel the same way.

Louis tugs Harry in a little closer, pressing a soft kiss against his shoulder. “We should do something together. Maybe I could come with you one time when you hang out with your friends? Like Jeff and Xander and Nadine, that lot.”

Harry nods, “Yeah, definitely. That’d be nice.”

“Am I cool enough to be part of your LA crew though?” Louis teases, poking Harry’s dimple.

“Hm, I dunno about that. We are _pretty_ cool.” Harry grins back at him.

Louis giggles, slipping a hand at the back of Harry’s neck and pulling him in for a kiss. His lips feel cold and taste sweet like ice cream and Louis has to remind himself to move his mouth against Harry’s, so lost in the feeling of it.

When they break away, Harry’s smiling so bright back at him that Louis has to turn his eyes away for a second, the glare almost blinding. “You’re a really good kisser.” Harry whispers, pressing the pad of his thumb into Louis’ bottom lip. “I always sort of thought you would be.”

Louis just responds by connecting their mouths again, sliding their lips past each other slow and sickly sweet. There’s just something about kissing Harry, it’s like everything else in the world stops and all that’s real is Harry’s soft mouth brushing against his.

“Now you’re just showing off.” Harry mumbles against Louis’ lips as they move apart.

Louis smirks and tweaks Harry’s nipple, “You’re not so bad yourself.”

Harry grins, dropping his head to lean against Louis’ shoulder. Louis tilts his head, rests it against Harry’s, ignoring the stray strands of hair that tickle his eyes and nose. “Haz?” Louis asks, rubbing a circle against Harry’s hip.

“Mm?”

“Tell me a story.”

Harry snorts, “What kind of story?”

Louis hums, bringing his hand up to brush Harry’s hair out of his face, letting his fingers catch on the flushed red of his cheek. “Something about you. Something you didn’t get to tell me before. Anything.”

He watches the corners of Harry’s mouth twitch up into a smile as he replies. “I’m not very good at stories, I’m quite boring.”

Louis furrows his eyebrows together, stroking along Harry’s arm. “I think you’re the most interesting person I know.” And he means that, he really does.

Harry sucks in a heavy breath, his eyes crinkled in the corners as he looks at Louis. “Okay, no pressure.”

Louis rolls his eyes, kissing Harry’s cheek lightly. “I just hate feeling like there was a time when I didn’t know you. Like, you were right there but…you weren’t.”

Harry blinks slowly, moving his hand to interlock it with Louis’. “I know, but that’s over now. I’m here now, I’m with you.”

Louis feels the back of his throat burn, has to clear his throat before he can speak again. He nods, slow and then fast. “ _God_ , I-I’m so _glad_.” Glad, glad doesn’t cut it. Glad doesn’t even begin to cover the relief and comfort and just sheer _happiness_ he feels to have Harry the way that he has him now. 

Harry squeezes his fingers, holding on tight. “What if I tell you a story about something that hasn’t happened yet?” 

Louis raises his eyebrows, “Gonna get the crystal ball out are ya? Are you secretly a wizard?” Louis brushes Harry’s hair off his forehead, “Where’s your lightning bolt scar Harry?” Harry splutters, squirming as Louis plants a trail of wet kisses over his forehead and none existent magical scar. 

“Get off,” Harry whines, giant smile making his complaining a lot less convincing. “I was about to be all romantic before you slobbered all over me.”

Louis pouts, fluttering his eyelashes up at Harry. “Please tell me the story.”

Harry squints his eyes in mock irritation before giving in and smirking back at him. He takes the hand that isn’t interlocked with Louis’ and puts it on Louis’ bicep, stroking his knuckles softly against the skin there. “It’s about me and you.”

Louis just nods back, losing himself in the feel of Harry smoothing over his skin.

“We’re walking somewhere together, just us two. And it’s not in the middle of the night or in a gated community. We’re in…London. Just walking around in London, maybe in Covent Garden or something. You’re holding one of those takeaway tea’s in one hand, the type you hate where the plastic makes the tea taste like shit and it’s too hot and you’ve burnt your tongue.”

Louis lets out a gentle laugh, not interrupting Harry’s train of thought.

“And then your other hand, this is the important part-“ Harry adds, raising his eyebrows at Louis. “Your other hand is holding mine, like this.” He holds their hands up now, rubs the back of Louis’ palm with his thumb. “And we’re just walking, just like that, holding hands. We’ll chuck a couple of quid in one of the street performers buckets, cos we’re nice like that. Maybe someone stops us for a picture and when we take it, I’d reach out behind them so I’m still touching your shoulder.”

Louis swears he can physically feel his heart growing bigger, expanding so that there’s enough room in there for all the love he has for Harry. “Then what?” He whispers back at him.

“Then, we’d stop in a cafe there. Doesn’t matter which one, we could eat right in the middle of the courtyard if we wanted to. And I’d order a ham and pickle ciabatta and give you all the pickles from it.”

Louis snorts, “How kind of you.”

“You’d have food too.” Harry giggles, “You’d get a…chicken caesar salad and moan about the lack of croutons.”

“Croutons are an essential part of any salad!” Louis protests, “Not my fault _everybody_ seems to be stingy with ‘em.”

Harry laughs, digging his fingers into Louis’ bicep. “Then when you weren’t looking, I’d sneak a picture of you. When you’re looking down and your eyelashes look all long and thick and you’re doing that half smile that makes your cheekbones really defined.”

Louis feels himself blush, looking away from Harry’s gaze.

“Yeah, that one.” Harry teases, pinching his cheek softly. “Then, I’d put an artsy filter on it and upload it onto Instagram and caption it something like…tea for two. Or maybe I wouldn’t put a caption at all, cos everyone’d know exactly who you were anyway.”

Louis can feel himself getting choked up. He doesn’t know how to say exactly what he feels, how to convey his emotions properly. He’s just so overwhelmed with this boy, with Harry and his simplistic ideals. And god, that’s all he could ever want. Harry. 

Harry must notice Louis is quiet, that he’s feeling so many things all at once because he pulls him in close, keeping their hands interlocked between them. 

“Do you know what else I’d take a picture of?” Harry asks, voice muffled in Louis’ hair. “I’d take a picture of our tattoos. The ship and the compass right next to each other and I definitely wouldn’t put a caption on that because they speak louder than words.”

Louis bites his lips, clutching tight onto Harry. He wants to speak but he’s having trouble forming words. 

Harry speaks for him. “How did we manage to convince ourselves that ship and compass tattoos were even remotely platonic?”

Louis laughs at that, a loud, unabashed noise that sneaks right out of his throat. “I have _no_ idea.” He leans back, getting a good look at Harry’s face. “I love you so much.”

Harry kisses his forehead, then his nose, then the side of his mouth. “I love you too. We’re gonna be okay, Lou.”

Louis feels a tear prickle at the corner of his eye, he sucks in a shaky breath. “That rhymed.”

Harry snorts, shaking his head softly and grinning his face off at Louis. “I hate you.”

Louis pokes at Harry’s dimple before kissing him there. “I’m sorry. I had to.” He moves to kiss over the rest of Harry’s face, only stopping when he reaches his lips. Just brushing their mouths past each other, so delicate. 

“You don't have to tell me though.” Louis whispers into Harry’s skin as they move apart. “I already know.”

“Know what?” Harry asks him, tucking the long strand of Louis’ fringe behind his ear.

“That we’ll be okay.” Louis replies. “We’ll be more than okay. We’ll be fucking brilliant.” And he believes it. He believes it with everything he has in him. There are a lot of things that can be put down to coincidence in life, Louis thinks. Like it’s a coincidence that Liam and Niall have the same middle name. Or it’s a coincidence that him and Zayn both applied to the same college. But this, Louis thinks, a string of seemingly random occurrences that lead him to finding himself completely and wholeheartedly in love with somebody who loves him back just as much, that’s not a coincidence. It can’t be. 

Louis’ never found himself thanking the universe much before, but here, lying wrapped up in Harry, he can’t help himself. Louis doesn’t know what’s out there, if anything is at all, but right here, all he can do is shout his silent thanks into the abyss. 

He pulls Harry in tight, takes his hands and holds Harry’s face between them. There’s a million stars shining in the green of his eyes and Louis doesn’t even have to think about it before he says it.

“I’m in love with you in every universe.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i can't believe this is finally finished! it grew into something so much more than i ever expected it to be and i'm so happy and thankful for every last person that read it. you're all saints for putting up with my terrible update schedule and for sticking with it till the end. this is the first chaptered fic i've ever written in my life and it feels like a massive accomplishment to have it finished. thanks so much to all of you that left kudos or comments, it honestly means the world and i appreciate it so much.  
> i'm on tumblr at problematiclarry if you have any questions or comments, or if you just wanna say hi! again, thank you guys and i hope you enjoyed reading it as much as i did writing it ;) x


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